


Enterprise: From This Moment

by CaptainLyssa



Series: Enterprise [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: A little relationship angst, Cannon History from Memory Alpha, Drama, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, NX Project, Politics, Post-Canon, Prequel, Romance, Sexual Humor, Starfleet Academy, Vulcan Interference, Working at The Complex, alternative universe, season one, season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 42
Words: 135,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23128174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainLyssa/pseuds/CaptainLyssa
Summary: Cadet Tucker impresses Lt. Comm. Archer in 2140, thereby starting a relationship that will last decades. Add Vulcan interference in Trip's PhD project, stalling of the NX program (or closing down in those pointy eared devils get their way) and we have a socio-political situation only Archer and Tucker can solve.I’ve never written a gay couple, but wanted to give the Archer/Tucker pairing a very romantic, earthy, genuine perspective in a newly United Earth. They meet, fall in love and find an enduring bond in an accepting society. Not completely angst free, but then again, nor is life. I hope you enjoy this multi-decade journey as Humanity finally reaches out into the universe with our intrepid duo in their midst.The title is taken from the Shania Twain song, with many of the chapter titles using the lyrics. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed creating this story.
Relationships: Jonathan Archer/Charles "Trip" Tucker III
Series: Enterprise [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921705
Comments: 57
Kudos: 26





	1. Life has Begun: Friday 10th June 2140

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve seen all of season 1 and 2, parts of 3 and 4. I get why the show was cancelled, the acting might have improved but the characterisations! And that Trip/T’Pol drug/sex thing! Much of my writing for the genera takes place in the initial two seasons as my morality and personal ethics can cope. This time period is also the most Archer/Tucker centric which helps this story along. As this is AU, I’ve attempted to keep as much cannon as possible. All the facts on Archer/Tucker’s early years come from Memory Alpha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From This Moment: Lyrics
> 
> I do swear that I'll always be there  
> I'd give anything and everything and I will always care  
> Through weakness and strength  
> Happiness and sorrow  
> For better, for worse  
> I will love you with every beat of my heart
> 
> From this moment, life has begun  
> From this moment, you are the one  
> Right beside you is where I belong  
> From this moment on  
> From this moment, I have been blessed  
> I live only for your happiness  
> And for your love, I'd give my last breath  
> From this moment on  
> I give my hand to you with all my heart  
> I can't wait to live my life with you, I can't wait to start  
> You and I will never be apart  
> My dreams came true because of you  
> From this moment as long as I live  
> I will love you, I promise you this  
> There is nothing I wouldn't give  
> From this moment on, oh  
> You're the reason I believe in love  
> And you're the answer to my prayers from up above  
> All we need is just the two of us  
> My dreams came true because of you  
> From this moment as long as I live  
> I will love you, I promise you this  
> There is nothing I wouldn't give  
> From this moment  
> I will love you as long as I live  
> From this moment on

Charles Tucker the Third, or Trip as he was known to friends and family, learnt at a very young age that he loved people. Of course, the fact that most people, especially women, found him at least mildly attractive didn’t take long to sink in, or take advantage of. Being Caucasian, blond and blue eyed in an increasingly homogenous and united world helped him stand out in a crowd. As did Trip’s sparkling wit and personality, which he happily cultivated along with his Southern American twang.

Most things came easily to the good natured, principled individual. Regrettably, school took up six hours each day, hours Trip would rather be pulling apart any mechanical or electronic gadget, just to see how it worked before putting it back together. Thanks to a startling intelligence and his mama’s insistence he just get on with those jobs he didn’t like before accomplishing the ones he did, homework got done in record time. This fact, more than any other, allowed the child to follow more physical pursuits. He played anything with a ball as easily as he took a breath. Water sports came just as naturally, especially snorkelling and scuba diving. Living in Florida, swimming and surfing further bleached his hair but gave him a golden tan, meaning he blended in a little better when attempting to pick up girls in his youth.

It hadn’t taken long for the pubescent teen to understand there were two main types of women. Keepers and overnight sleepers. Trip’s first foray into love occurred at the tender age of fifteen, not that he hadn’t been interested in girls in his earlier school years. He just hadn’t been able to overcome his shyness in their company. Opportunities to develop a crush on a classmate decreased as girls didn’t want anything to do with a boy at least two years younger. Not that it stopped Trip learning to flirt outrageously.

Sally Marsden, one of the most popular Seniors abruptly ended his virginity. She’d made all the moves, intrigued and willing to go to any lengths to attract the young genius in her class. The short-lived relationship proved to be a steep learning curve. While Trip lost his naïveté and tender heart, Sally happily taught Tucker the difference between a nice girl and a good time. He’d stuck to the latter ever since, guarding his emotions. One day, Trip knew he’d find his keeper, that was, after an illustrious career in Starfleet and several years traveling the stars. By then he should be ready to settle down and raise his own family.

Social stereotypes declined after the Eugenics fiasco and disappeared completely post World War III. Humanity interbred when transport, consumables and housing became a universal constant and people elected to live where it suited their interests. Interracial marriages increased, couples were encouraged to have at least three children to repopulate after the devastating losses of the previous century. Individuals turned to education and training, taking pride in improving themselves and humanity in general. Charles Tucker wanted in on that concept, enjoying whatever life threw at him, wherever he happened to be. That’s how he ended up listening to one of the most boring lectures, in one of the most boring courses Starfleet Academy had to offer.

“I guess,” Trip smirked wearily, sitting in what he hoped would be his final lesson ever, “that’s what allowed Zefram Cochrane to create the first warp capable vessel.”

“What was that, Cadet?” the stony-faced, grey haired, guest lecturer demanded. Obviously, the officer picked up on Tucker’s inattention and decided to humiliate the student.

“Actually, Sir,” Trip stood, dropping all pretence of a smirk. Standing at ease, he addressed Captain Layton as if an equal. Tucker had honestly been trying to follow the dry explanation of advance warp theory. Increasingly infuriated by the older man’s bumbling effort, Trip knew he could do a far better job. He might only be twenty, but Charles Tucker III’s PhD thesis would be complete six months after he graduated Starfleet’s officer training. “I believe you haven’t taken in to account a paper published on orbital warp mechanics two months ago which makes the information your teaching redundant.”

“Is that so, Cadet…” The teacher sneered.

“Tucker, Sir,” Trip held in the sigh. _Why can’t these older Starfleet types realise there’s a younger generation that’s ready and raring to get out of the solar system and go exploring_. With that thought came the realisation that he still needed to pass his final exams next week so he’d qualify to work on any warp engine. “Cadet Charles Tucker.”

“As you seem to know so much about the topic,” Captain Layton allowed his expression to settle into arrogance. Indicating the lectern, he challenged the student to take his place. “Perhaps you might make an effort to finish this lecture, Cadet.”

Lt. Anne Hemmings, the regular class teacher chose that moment to cover the threatening smile on her lips with her hand. Understanding how this would play out, she glanced at Captain Layton’s escort, her eyes imploring him to do something. The Lt. Commander’s expression altered slightly, sitting higher in his chair, his gaze bouncing between his superior, Lt. Hemmings and the cadet, wondering what he’d missed. The atmosphere in the classroom became electrified as Tucker took up the challenge.

“Sure,” Trip moved towards the head of the class with an easy saunter. “Don’t mind if I do,” he drawled, causing several of his classmates to smirk knowingly.

Eyeing the incorrigible student, Lt. Commander Jonathon Archer picked up his PADD with an unpleasant feeling taking residence in the region of his stomach. Lt. Hemmings lent over, tapped a phrase into the device, then sat back to enjoy the show. Glancing down at the gadget, Archer found the for mentioned paper easily. Skim reading the abstract, it appeared Cadet Tucker made an interesting find. That was, until Jon noticed the name of the primary author.

 _Shit_ , Lt. Commander Archer cringed, his eyes taking in the situation, _Captain Layton’s going to get eaten alive by this kid and there’s not a dam thing I can do about it_.

Archer’s eyes sought out Hemming’s. Jon’s glare all the reprimand needed, Anne had the tenacity to blush, before once again tapping in yet another series of commands. This data, Archer knew, would take longer to read and comprehend. Cadet Tucker’s personnel file appeared on the screen. Quickly scanning the summary, Lt. Hemmings scrolled to the important facts. It appeared he had the unadulterated version. While Jon wanted to watch the Cadet explain the main theory behind his PhD thesis, he really needed a way to save Captain Layton’s reputation. The man was a bumbling idiot, thus the reason Commodore Forest sent Archer as his minder on this lecture circuit.

“Hi, ya’ll. I guess I don’t need to introduce myself,” Trip turned on his irrepressible charm and million-watt smile. Blue eyes raked everyone in the room, turning slightly to include the officers on the dais with a nod. He’d always been a natural speaker, charisma oozing out of every pore when the subject proved personally interesting. Several of the young women started preening as Tucker’s gaze returned to his audience, even though they’d been in his class for near on ten months. “As ya’ll know, we have cargo transports capable of a sustained warp 1.5. Not much of an improvement on Mr. Cochrane’s first flight in _Phoenix_ eighty years ago. Seems we haven’t been able to break warp 2, even with all the resources of the Warp 5 Complex and the help of our Vulcan friends. That engine in its current, physical reiteration, I’m sad to say, just isn’t capable.”

Lt. Commander Jonathan Archer felt his blood pressure rise. _Who the hell is this kid_ , his mind shouted, _to be debasing my father’s life work?_

“I’m not going to bore you to tears with basic warp theory, cause if you don’t pass your exam week after next, well, there’s just no hope for you. Professor Tanamal Sying from MIT has been studying advance warp field theory for five years, in conjunction with the Starfleet teams here at the Complex. Turns out, the quality of the dilithum crystal matrix and matter/anti-matter intermix is crucial to the stability of a subspace bubble required to create a warp field, especially as the warp factor increases.”

“Speed escalates the need,” Trip chuckled, enjoying the rapt attention of his colleagues. “The team at MIT have generated a whole new set of stability equations and tested them with a statistical variance of less than one percent. That’s over a thousand simulations with every one achieving warp 2 or higher. Now, we have to move onto turning this theory into a real engine. Seems Henry Archer was on the right track, but time and materials have moved on.”

 _Vindicated_ , Jon’s mind shouted, intrigued as to where this kid was going. He hadn’t heard any of this information and wondered why the son of Henry Archer had been left out of the loop.

“This new design will only be possible,” Trip grinned, in his element, “with a new style plasma injector….”

“That information is classified, Cadet,” Captain Layton injected hotly, hoping to stop the upstart. Rage infused his demeanour. Ian moved into a position between the cadet and the class, glowering at Tucker. “Not another word.”

“Sir,” Trip returned a similar glare, offended at the interruption, “I tweaked that component because none of our previous computer simulations could cope with the increased demands on the engine designed to reach warp two. Truth be told, I’m not sure how much longer Starfleet is going to be able to keep it a secret. My colleagues at MIT…”

“Your colleagues, **_Cadet_** Tucker?” the irate Captain demanded, obviously attempting to belittle the inexperienced younger man. “That’s rich. You’re what, all of twenty, hardly old enough to have a basic degree in Engineering.”

Sighing, loudly, Trip faced Captain Layton, blue eyes blazing with passion. As much as he hated blowing his own horn, it looked as if nothing but the absolute truth would do here. “Professor Sying agreed to take me on as her doctoral student five years ago. Hell, I was so board in high school, I’d completed half a college degree before I graduated. That team she’s arranged, it was to help me gather the data I needed to make Henry Archer’s engine fly. When I present the conclusions of my doctoral thesis to Starfleet in a few months, it’s going to shake the tree at the Complex. We’re going to have to rethink every component…”

“Captain,” Lt. Commander Archer interrupted, a serious timber to his voice, making both combatants turn their wrath towards him. The argument had already gotten out of hand. Holding out a PADD, Jon hoped to forestall his commanding officer from digging himself further into an already well-established hole. “I suggest you read this, Sir, and have the class dismissed before you continue your discussion with Cadet Tucker.”

Snatching the device, Ian Layton’s eyes bulged. Glancing up from the data, he glared at Trip, before continuing to read. Waving a hand in the air, Lt. Commander Archer knew he’d been given orders. As did Lt. Hemmings. Anne, quickly dismissed her class, with warning to study for their finals, starting Monday week. Gathering up her personal items, she left the room without a backward glance. The smile, however, she couldn’t hide. It had taken three lessons with Trip Tucker to appreciate his disinterest was actually boredom, his engaging personality a ruse to cover his intelligence and there was little Starfleet’s new academy could teach him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Timeline: Memory Alpha
> 
> Archer:   
> • 2112: born to Henry and Sally Archer. (? 4th August)   
> • 2124: Henry Archer dies.   
> • 2140: joined NX program.  
> • 2143: Along with A.G. Robinson, becomes the first Human to achieve warp 2.5   
> • 2150: Becomes commanding officer of the starship Enterprise NX-01  
> • 2151: Enterprise Launches  
> • 2155: Attends the opening ceremony of the Coalition of Planets  
> • 2161: Final year commanding Enterprise  
> • 2169: Becomes Federation Ambassador to Andoria  
> • 2175: Serves as Federation Councillor  
> • 2184: Is elected Federation President  
> • 2192: Steps down as Federation President
> 
> Tucker:  
> • 2121: Born (? ) February  
> • 2139: joined SF   
> • 2143: NX project/Cpt. Jefferies   
> • 2147: Titian mission  
> • 2150: Becomes Chief Engineer of the starship Enterprise NX-01  
> • 2151: Enterprise Launches
> 
> Cannon Lore:
> 
> • 1992-96: Egenics War, 37 million killed.  
> • 2026-53: WWIII, Genome enhancements, 600 million killed, most major cities and governments destroyed, famine and radiation.  
> • 2030?: Zefram Cochrane born.  
> • 2060?: Henry Archer Born.  
> • 2061: Light Speed Engine tested, Earth still poverty stricken and devastated.  
> • 2063: First Warp Flight in Phoenix/Meeting Vulcans.  
> • 2067: Friendship 1 launched.  
> • 2079: Post Atomic Horror.  
> • 2113: United Earth Government – with regional Hegemonies.  
> • 2119: Cochrane disappeared.  
> • 2124: Henry Archer dies.  
> • 2132: Sally Archer dies, UESPA morphs into Starfleet.


	2. Right Beside You: Friday 10th June 2140

“Mr. Tucker,” Lt. Commander Archer watched the emotions crossing the cadets face. It seemed the young man was an open book. Indicating he take Anne’s empty seat, Trip reluctantly sat. Sparing a glance for the increasingly red-faced Captain still digesting the information on the PADD, Jon asked, “care to tell me how a twenty-year-old is about to be the youngest Lieutenant in the history of Starfleet.”

“Well,” Trip hung his head, wanting to be anywhere else, especially with Ian Layton listening in on their conversation and very obviously unimpressed. “I guess it started when I attended grade school. First day the teacher called my Mama into class and suggested I be placed in an institution more suited to my academic prowess. You know the type, real smart kids, but I’d have to travel an hour each way, not something I’d enjoy.”

“Too much time sitting still?” Jon asked, starting to get a sense of the younger man’s humour and defensive mechanisms. “Your mother must be one strong lady, because I bet you were a mischievous child.”

“You bet ya,” Trip laughed, his southern drawl thickening as he became lost in memories. “I was always getting into some kind of scrape, and taking my siblings along with me. I can still here my Mama saying ‘Trip, you’re going to be the death of me’ every time I did something I know she wouldn’t approve of.”

“Like now,” Jon indicated Captain Layton.

“Yes and no, Sir,” Tucker nodded. “She never did like a show off, but she taught all us kids to stand up for what we believe in.”

“Trip?” Jon enquired, having given the younger man time to collect his thoughts.

“Charles Tucker the Third, Triple, Trip,” Trip introduced, holding out a hand.

Taking the offered salutation, Jon held back from introducing himself. Exactly what held him back, Archer couldn’t say. As Trip’s firm fingers wrapped around his, Jon tightened his grip, holding it a few seconds longer than necessary. Watching those unwavering blues, the Lt. Commander knew it’d be difficult for most people not to feel attracted to the incorrigible individual. 

“So,” Jon played for time, attempting to rationalise his emotions.

“Truth be told,” Trip chuckled, “I couldn’t pull apart an engine on the transport, driver might have had something to say about it. Mama knew I’d get into more trouble than it was worth at that fancy school. She channelled my energies elsewhere.”

Nodding, Archer silently encouraged Tucker to continue with a reassuring smile and a pat on the back. Unsure of his motives, the hand strayed higher, settling on the cadet’s shoulder. Feeling a connection, Jon wondered if it had to do with Trip’s defence of his father’s engine and determination to make it fly, or if it might be something a little more personally motivated. It had been a long time since he’d felt the stirrings of physical attraction to someone.

“Ah, hell, can’t you get this information from my Starfleet personnel file, Sir?” Trip asked, glancing up to find an intrigued expression on Archer’s face. “Ain’t like it’s any secret. Besides, I saw Lt. Hemmings filling you in via your data PADD.”

“Don’t miss much, do you, Cadet?” Jon grinned, once again squeezing Tucker’s shoulder. Trip didn’t shy away from the contact, in fact, the kid seemed comforted by it.

“Try not to, Sir,” Trip frowned. It looked like someone finally understood him, at least a little. Very few people got under Cadet Tucker’s skin that quickly, and fewer still with anything resembling tolerance and support. Sighing, loudly, Trip decided to just get on with it. “I’d just turned sixteen when I graduated High School. Most of the kids in my class were a couple of years older. To tell the truth, I’d written to Professor Sying two years earlier asking if there were any remote courses I could do to make my time at college quicker so I could start actually playing with engines, not theorising about them. To say I was apathetic with regard to school would be an understatement. I’d pretty much finished the requirements to graduate high school at fourteen and needed something more academic to sit still in a classroom for six hours without going stir crazy. She agreed. By the time I actually got to campus, it took two summer sessions and the semesters in-between to complete my double degree. I already had an idea for a master’s project. A year later, Starfleet recruited me, on the proviso I graduate Officer training before completing my PhD.”

“Starfleet gets exclusive access to your data while you demanded the shortest possible stint as an Ensign,” Archer concluded. “Not to mention working at the orbital station to test your theories. So, you pass your exams, become Ensign Tucker for six months, submit your thesis and get promoted to Full Lieutenant. What then?”

“Captain Jeffery’s engineering team,” Trip stated with a frown.

“You think Layton’s an engineering fool,” Archer whispered, his eyes darting to the Captain, ensuring Ian hadn’t heard.

“Commodore Forrest thinks I need to learn to follow orders instead of giving them,” Trip exhaled meaningfully. He’d forgotten about Layton being in the room. “Jeffery’s might not know his EPS conduit from his plasma relays, but he’s been an officer for thirty years. If anyone can give orders, it’s Captain Jeffery’s, Sir. I slip up, I get booted out, no matter what I know.”

“Still didn’t answer my question, Cadet?” Archer allowed an eyebrow to rise slightly. “What’s your end goal?”

“Theoretically,” Trip got that far away look in his eye, “the principle behind Henry Archer’s engine is capable of warp 5 with the new injector design and intermix calculations. We just have to build it.”

“You want in on the ground level?” Archer began to see the younger man’s determination and ambition, not to mention his need to remain in Starfleet to realise his dreams.

“Hell, Sir, I designed one of the critical components, probably will revamp several more in the future,” Trip stood and paced, “and that ain’t all. My PhD is based on those new calculations. I know we can get to warp 2 **_if_** Starfleet will just continue the NX project. I guarantee it’ll happen in the next five years, **_if_** the Vulcan High Council would just give some of us younger engineers a chance. In ten, with the right team, I could have a ship doing warp 5. Each generation of upgrades is going to need redesigned components, new material and manufacturing techniques. Each warp factor places so much extra stress on the vessel surrounding the engine, that the entire ship needs to be modified.”

Remaining silent, Jonathan Archer didn’t quite know what to say. He’d been so focused on the engine, it looked like he’d missed the bigger picture. Standing to grip the Cadet’s shoulder once again, he hoped the kid would continue talking. It seemed Tucker only required a little human contact and a sympathetic ear to expound his ideas. Beneath that buoyant exterior, the kid was insecure and more than a little out of his depth. There was no doubt Charles Tucker the Third knew his theory, he could get people to listen, but obviously his age and intelligence often worked against him.

“Look, all I know is Henry Archer died sixteen years ago. He must have been a very frustrated man, with all that political opposition to his design,” Trip sat, finally exhausted by his outburst. “That’s all I want to do. Be on the first warp capable ship that makes it out of the solar system.”

“You’re going to need a little help,” Jon smirked, “to achieve that goal.”

Sighing, Trip felt his shoulders slumping and his head falling in dejection. Something made him look up at the Lt. Commander when he squeezed Tucker’s shoulder once again, and asked in a sarcastic tone, “you going to help me get there?”

A chuckle erupted from Jon’s throat as he wondered if Commodore Forest had deliberately set up this meeting in a roundabout way. Tucker should be the one giving the lecture series on Advance Warp Theory, not Captain Leyton. Not only would the speeches be more stimulating, Charles Tucker would establish his reputation as one of the most emanate engineers of this generation. The tour was scheduled to conclude on the orbital station, which would lead into, then Ensign Tuckers, research project. Jonathon Archer knew he could make the timing work.

“Let me introduce myself, Trip,” Jon held out his hand. Confused, it took Tucker several seconds to respond. When he did, Archer ensured he captured the younger man’s eye and pumped their clasped digits. “Lt. Commander Jonathan Archer, at your service.”

“No shit!” a wide grin covered Trip’s face.

“Cadet,” distain dripping from his tone, Captain Layton’s unhappy visage broke the comradery. Ian hadn’t made his rank by being a bumbling fool. Over the years, he’d learnt to cultivate that Captain’s tone, listen to his crew and analyse most situations by simply watching. He’d started with the same level of energy and desire as the two men standing before him. The passion had faltered, probably with the increasing Vulcan interference in Humanities thirst to reach the stars. Cadet Tucker might prove the NX programs saviour, yet his record demonstrated he needed careful handling to become a Starfleet Officer able to take orders. “Consider yourself on report for inappropriate conduct. Maybe you’ll learn to watch your mouth in future, and address an officer as Sir.”

“Yes, Sir,” Trip’s head snapped up. Anyone could see the fury and self-doubt warring as he tried to get himself under control. He’d really wanted to say, “No shit, Sir.”

Standing, Jon waited for the senior officer to finish glaring at Tucker and acknowledge him. With a sigh, Ian played his part by barking, “what?”

“As I understand it,” Jon chose his words carefully, “this class will graduate in two weeks, if they pass their exams.”

Captain Layton got the drift. Placing a hand on his chin, Ian’s eyes scrutinised the Cadet. He wasn’t cowering, but he didn’t have the nerve to stand his ground against a superior officer, particularly after a reprimand. So much potential, yet he hadn’t learnt to play the Starfleet game. Anyone who wanted to go places in this organisation needed to be politically savvy, learn diplomacy and have a shrewdness about them someone of Cadet Tuckers age lacked. With the right mentor and a little seasoning, someone with the boy’s smarts might just convince the Vulcans that humanity could reach the stars on their own terms and in their own time.

It seemed Lt. Commander Archer managed to bond with the cadet after a few moments’ quiet conversation. Oh, Layton understood Archer’s motivations. He wanted to be on that first truly interstellar ship, possibly as its captain and this kid might be his ticket, even his Chief Engineer if Research and Development ever released him. Smirking, Ian Layton knew he’d missed that boat, thanks to the Vulcan’s.

“I’ll speak with Commodore Forest,” Layton stated. _Not that the savvy old bastard hasn’t set this up, if I know him. He probably wanted Archer and Tucker on this little publicity stunt right from the get go but those dam Vulcan’s preferred rank and age. Two men, in the prime of their lives, the media will eat them up._ “In the meantime, Cadet,” Ian warned in his most severe tone, “you’d better study for those exams. Can’t have an officer not knowing proper protocol and procedure when he’s representing Starfleet.”

Swallowing hard, Trip watched the cantankerous captain walk out of the room. Turning to Lt. Commander Archer, he asked softly, “did he just say what I think he did?”

“Dam straight, Cadet,” Jon couldn’t hold back the smile. Clapping the younger man on the back once again, he stated, “as I recall, Friday night usually involves some significant relaxing at a local bar, waking up with a bed mate and a major hangover. You got time for an aperitif before joining your classmates?”

Having just been reminded of protocol, Trip answered regretfully, “sorry, Sir.”

“Another night,” Jon responded. Hearing the disappointment made his heart beat a little faster and a part of his anatomy stir. _Hell, get you’re self under control. He’s just a kid and probably as straight as they come with that colouring and body. Half the girls in the class are a little in love with him. All Tucker has to do is give them even the slightest indication and they’d roll over without a second thought. Face it, Archer, it’s time to get shitfaced and laid when you can’t keep your hands to yourself._

Trip found the thought welcome and smiled shyly. “Once I’m an Ensign, Sir.”

Letting out a hearty chuckle, Archer shook his head. _Maybe I’m wrong about him. If nothing else, I believe we can be friends. In the meantime, the kid needs a mentor to get through all the BS Starfleet is going to throw at him_. “Get your gear, Cadet. I’ll walk you out of the building.”

“Yes, Sir,” Trip answered, finding his steps suddenly became lighter.


	3. Thought Weakness: Saturday 18th June 2140

“Come on Trip,” Cadet Anthony Bianchi complained, “you’ve been morose since that run in with Captain whatever his name was last week. You didn’t even try to pick up or get drunk when we went out to celebrate the end of semester. Every time I’ve seen you since, your heads been in the books.”

Trip snorted in response. Little did his classmate know, or care, Cadet Tucker already had enough marks to pass without sitting his exams. All he had to do was show up, not that mediocrity had ever been enough for Charles Tucker III. It was the protocol and procedure lesson’s he’d neglected through disinterest, intending to just scrape through so he could get to play with his beloved engines. The conversation with Captain Layton proved he’d made a huge mistake. It seemed Starfleet was all about rules and regulations, thanks to a never-ending Vulcan influence.

“What happened,” Edgar Smith asked, “after we left? Did you get chewed out?”

“Yep,” Trip stated, taking a long swallow from his beer and looking at the three men gathered around the table. They’d pulled some pranks this past year, even got caught a few times, but never officially chastised. “I’ve got my first official reprimand.”

Snorting, Ed tried to lighten the mood, “like that would worry you! The stunts I’ve seen you pull in the last ten months.”

“This time’s different,” Trucker snapped out the reply, “Captain Layton’s put it on my file. I got a lot riding on graduating.”

It had been a week in which Trip hadn’t heard from Lt. Commander Archer, Captain Layton or Commodore Forest. With exams starting Monday, there would leave very little time to work on an Advance Warp Core lecture series. He needed to know his audience, their backgrounds and what information he’d be allowed to include, if they wanted to really pull this thing off. Trip hadn’t realised how much he coveted this assignment, until it might not materialise.

Attempting to move his thoughts to a less depressing topic, Trip looked out on the crowded dance floor of their usual Saturday night club. Nothing caught his eye among the gyrating bodies. It had been the same for the last eight days. Truth was, Charles Tucker didn’t quite know why his libido suddenly evaporated and took any enjoyment of bar hopping with his friends for good measure.

“What happened to treat’m mean, keep’m keen,” Anthony teased, watching the complexed play of emotions cross his friends face. “You usually pull just walking through the door. This is the third bar we’ve hit tonight and not a single lady has harassed you.”

“I hope you remember,” Trip snorted, “Wednesday night a couple of weeks back. As I recall, you all dragged us out against curfew, to a sleazy bar two blocks from the dorm complex. That girl in the leotard looking thing, hauled me into a back room, had her way with me and then walked back onto the dance floor. I got the feeling I was the one being used.”

“For a change,” Ed couldn’t help teasing.

“I don’t remember you complaining,” Tony grunted sourly. “I though you said she took it up the…”

“A gentleman doesn’t talk about his activities,” Trip drawled, slightly angered he let his solitary encounter with anal sex become known, “but hell, I tell you, first time for everything. And if you’re going to try something new, best be with someone who has lots of experience.”

“Been there, done that,” Pieter Wagner allowed one eyebrow to rise as his lips curled into a broad, good natured grin. Usually the quietest of the group, both his German accent and cutting quips increased with the number of drinks the big guy put away. “Oh, look, the one in yellow. She’s got a great, how do you American’s say, rack?”

“She can lose me in those boobs any time,” Edgar Smith responded. His Cockney twang accompanied a whistle. “The one with that short green skirt, now she’s more my type.”

“You’ve always been a bum man,” Tony shook his head, watching their British classmate drain his bottle, then deliberately place it on the table. Waving a see you later, if I’m lucky enough, Ed made his way onto the dance floor and over to his target.

Three minutes later, Tony and Pieter groaned. Ed could loosely be termed dancing with the girl. Although they were closer to doing a vertical hump. Another five and Ed had his tongue down her throat.

“One down,” Trip stated, eyeing the other guys at the table. He was usually the first to pick up a companion, only tonight he had no intention of doing so. Whether it was their impending exams, which he needed to pass, or the thought of not getting to do that lecture series, he didn’t know. He didn’t even consider the offer of a drink with Archer as the root cause. “Wouldn’t want to cramp your style,” Tucker stated, not bothering to finish his beer. He just wasn’t in the mood for partying, “so, I’m going to go back to the dorm.”

“You’re kidding,” Tony shook his head with disappointment. “Man, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d finally met someone.”

That caused Trip to smirk. Sharing a glance with Pieter, gave Tucker time to think before he could formulate a sardonic wisecrack. Openly bisexual, the German grunted, as if he’d seen the answer in his friend’s soul. He understood the turmoil of being attracted to someone of the same gender and not able to recognise the symptoms.

“I think he has,” Pieter chuckled, ensuring he trapped Trip’s gaze. “I’m just not sure Trip’s ready to admit it to himself, yet. First steps disinterest, especially in casual and meaningless sex.”

“Tick,” Tony supplied with a leer, as Trip shook his head.

The four of them had been a team since Tucker’s first week of officer training. Anthony, Edgar and Pieter were in for the full four-year course. They’d already obtained their undergraduate degrees at Stanford, in accordance with Starfleet’s latest regulations. Forced to wear uniforms while on campus and live in Starfleet dorms ostracised the cadets from the general student population. When Trip joined the final year of the program, he’d become the linchpin of the tight knit the group.

“Next, he won’t want to come out with us,” Pieter stated. “Drop us like a hot Tomato.”

“It’s potato, and with that,” Tucker stood, taking his jacket from the back of his chair, “I’m going home to my lonely bed. Have a good night.”

“Or leave just when the parties getting started,” Pieter shot a wicked grin at Trip’s retreating backside. “Hell, I’d do him, if he’d let me.”

“Right,” Tony laughed, “and get a right hook for your trouble. He’s had more women than I’ve had hot breakfasts. Never seen a guy who can work every female from fifteen to fifty just by walking in the door.”

“Ever heard of sexual overcompensation,” Pieter asked in a soft tone, suddenly finding himself sober. When Tony shook his head, Cadet Wagner sighed. “Trip’s got all the signs. Never had a long-term relationship, uses sex to prove his masculinity, has to be the best athlete, no matter the game and he hides that soft, caring side behind his intelligence and gentlemanly behaviour. Besides, he’d never hit any guy if propositioned. I can here that drawl now, ‘sorry, darlin, your just not my type. Wrong equipment, if ya’ll know what I mean’.”

“You’re saying he’s really interested in men?” Tony responded. “No way. I’ve never seen Trip even look at a male before, not in that way.”

“Me either,” Pieter smirked, “until last Friday. He and that Lt. Commander stood at the entrance to the Academy’s training rooms for half an hour, talking, if you know what I mean. Don’t look at me like that, Tony. If anyone knows the signs, it’s the German with the gayometer. The Lt. Commander’s interested in Trip, no doubt in my mind. It was in the way he lent in to catch every word. Not to mention all those very subtle touches on Tucker’s shoulder. I just don’t know if Trip recognises his own feelings. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen our genius smile that brightly before.”

Floored, Tony looked out into the sea of women. “Hell, I need to get laid after that revelation,” he stated, draining his bottle. “Have to say, I didn’t see that coming. Still, if that’s what floats Trip’s boat, I’m not going to stand in his way. Let’s find some real estate to take home, Pete.”

“Already taken care of that,” Pieter said, picking up his jacket and waving Tony towards the dance floor. “He’s waiting for me at his place.”

“You kept that quiet,” Tony eyed his friend meaningfully.

“Yep,” the German agreed. “They say it’s the quiet ones you need to watch. We’ve been together three months now. Before you ask, it’s serious. I’ll be moving in after graduation and hope to get a posting at the Complex or Command.”

Shaking his head, Anthony Bianchi collected his jacket and Ed’s. There were acquainted well enough with the bar staff to stash their coats overnight, so long as the cadets didn’t mind a grilling the next morning. This time, Pieter took pity on his friend. Holding out his arm, the German offered, “you can collect them tomorrow, as long as you tell me exactly what happens for the rest of the night. I want to know it Ed takes the green skirt home.”

“Deal,” Tony smirked. “Send me your new address. I want to see your new guy and place. I’ll make sure Trip comes along, after letting Ed into your theory.”

“Anthony,” Pieter shook his head sombrely. “Trip's going to have a hard-enough time coming out, if I’m right. He doesn’t need you and Edgar teasing him. I’ll drop your jackets with Trip. I want to check up on him, before going to my boyfriend’s place. Besides, I’m not sure Lee’s ready to meet you yet.”

Walking six blocks gave Pieter time to think. He needed to approach Trip carefully. The Southerner might smile a whole lot, but he didn’t let much out. He called himself a gentleman, and he was, but Tucker used it to his advantage. Tony’s slip about Trip’s last encounter with a girl had alarm bells going off in Pieter’s mind. He knew it might be the catalyst, making Tucker understand his own sexual orientation better.

Hearing the chime, Trip almost ignored it. Hightailing it back to his room after entering the dorm, Tucker knew most of the class would be out celebrating before exams. He didn’t want to be saddled with one of the girls hoping for a last private get together for old times sake. When the buzzer insisted the intruder wasn’t going to leave well enough alone, he finally got up to answer the door.

“Who is it?” Trip asked. When Pieter answered, the door slid open immediately. “Has something happened? Please tell me you guys didn’t get into a fight?”

“No,” Pieter pushed his way into Trips room, before handing the coats over, “looks like you’re babysitting. Ed closed his deal and Tony was on the prowl. You can give them back in the morning, when they finally get in.”

Trip wondered why Pieter left the club without company. Even so, he’d never bring the guys jackets back to the dorm when he could leave them at the bar for safe keeping. A confused expression covered Tuckers face. Cadet Wagner smirked and explained he was on the way to his boyfriends for the rest of the weekend.

“You sure kept that quiet,” Tucker grinned, giving his friend a wallop on the shoulder. Expecting Pieter to leave, the German stood his ground, examining Trip, as if he wanted to say more but didn’t quite know how. “Why’d you really come, Wagner?”

“You going to tell me about your guy?” Pieter asked, deciding on the direct route. Trip looked like a deer caught in headlights, before slumping into his bunk. “Don’t tell me you’re not interested in men. I saw the way you interacted with that Lt. Commander last week. If I wasn’t already involved, I’d like a piece of that arse, even if he’s what, five years older than me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Trip spluttered, unable to look at Pieter as a maelstrom of emotions cluttered his mind.

“Keep telling yourself that,” Pieter shot, pressing the button to let himself out of the small room. “Do yourself a favour, Trip. Look up overcompensation and then watch some gay porn. Even with universal acceptance, it can be hard to recognise your sexuality.”

“What the hell,” Tucker muttered as the door silently slid shut. More confused than ever, Trip closed his eyes and rubbed them. “I need this like a hole in the head. As if it ain’t bad enough that I can’t get laid, Pieter as to go and put that image in my head. Like I ever looked at a man in my life.”

 _Then_ , Trip’s alter ego inquired, _why did the green monster rear its ugly head the moment Wagner mentioned Jonathan Archer’s arse? As if you hadn’t noticed it and the body that it’s attached too._

 _Pieter’s more gay than bi,_ countered Tucker’s normal persona, _not that Tony, Ed or I care. Thankfully the worlds moved past those labels. We all teased Pieter about his gayometer. He can spot an attractive, homosexual guy at a hundred paces._

 _A guy like Lt. Commander Archer,_ the alter ego returned _, who asked you out for a drink. Do I have to remind you how much you wanted to accept? How it made you feel when you knew you couldn’t. Now you can’t even look at a girl and get it up. I think that’s telling you something._

Groaning, Trip knew he’d never sleep with these thoughts running rampant in his head. Rubbing his eyes one last time, he turned off his computer terminal and decided on taking a cold shower. It didn’t help in the slightest. Admitting defeat and taking Pieter’s advice, Cadet Tucker put his intelligence to work. Finding his research beguiling, Trip sat back and closed his eyes. Immediately an image of Jonathan Archer appeared. He could see the delight in his hazel eyes and the smile gracing his lips. Feeling that hand on his shoulder, recalling the deep timber of his voice, Tucker’s blood rushed south. Not even Trip’s alter ego dared to mention the evolving erecting.

 _How the hell_ , Trip thumped his pillow several hours later, _am I going to look Lt. Commander Archer in the face if I do get this lecture gig without acting like a school girl with her first crush. Maybe it’s best if I don’t. Then I can go straight to the orbital station, qualify for EV and complete my PhD in peace_


	4. In Weakness II: Saturday 25th June 2140

“Any particular reason?” A.G Robinson pointed to the bottle of bourbon on the table. He’d been in the 602 an hour, watching Archer slowly get drunk. Half the bottle had been consumed prior to his arrival, which wasn’t in the least like his puritanical friend.

“Yes,” the word came out as a slightly slurred hiss. Hazel eyes snapped up, stating Robinson should leave him to wallow in misery alone.

“We playing twenty questions?” Robinson teased in his superior voice, taking the opposite seat without asking. Unwilling to risk sharing, A.G. jiggled the ice in his empty tumbler. Archer didn’t react, which told the pilot a whole lot.

“Twenty,” Jon snorted, lost in his inebriated thoughts for a moment. “Nah. Let’s just say I’ve had a hell of a dry spell since Carl left.”

Raising an eyebrow, Robinson dredge up an image of Jon’s last boyfriend. If he recalled correctly, Carl worked at Kentfield Hospital in administration and liked to swim. Nice enough guy but not Starfleet. Archer had gone that route while at Stanford, getting his degree, then again in pilot training before deciding outsourcing was a better fit. The relationship with Carl ended rapidly when newly promoted Lt. Commander Archer had been assigned to a year on _Star Gazer_ as part of his training for the upcoming NX program.

“Starfleet will do that to a relationship, even the most solid,” Robinson grimaced, recalling his own lack of companionship while on _Galileo_ for the same reasons. He’d well and truly made up for it in the fourteen months since being groundside with a string of brief affairs. Archer, on the other hand, was a serial monogamist.

The four of them, Archer, Gardiner, Duvall and Robinson had all been required to do a space tour to gain the extra half rank and some command experience. They’d been like peas in a pod for the last six years. Back in those days, you came to officer training with a college education, spent six weeks in the class room, followed by another three months in flight school. Only Archer had been lucky enough to get into Stanford. The newly formed organisation recruited most of their officers from the United Earth Space Probe Agency, until they merged in thirty-two.

Snorting, Jon watched the play of emotions across Robinson’s face. “I’m trying to recall why I ever joined up. The Vulcan’s are still stalling on the new engine, our ships take years to get anywhere and any new talent has procedure and protocol drummed into them so they won’t buck the system. Tell me, A.G., what the hell did Humanity do wrong?”

“So, we’re in the maudlin stage,” he goaded, hoping for a hint of Archer’s real issue.

“Hell, yes,” Jon toasted, threw back the amber liquid in his glass and then refilled it. “One more, then I’m going home alone. Seems to be my lot in life.”

“Who is he?” Robinson demanded, finally understanding the reason for the self-indulgent behaviour.

“Young, blond, out of my league,” Jon scoffed. When Robinson actually seemed to be listening, Archer added, “the kids only twenty, almost completed his PhD. Real genius, according to his file. I could tell he’s built like Adonis, even under his uniform.”

“Starfleet?” A.G. searched for clues. They all knew the brass were headhunting in the hope of keeping the Complex moving forward in spite of Vulcan involvement. Jon’s current assignment was a lecture circuit with Captain Layton that had been abruptly cancelled almost a fortnight previously, leaving Archer in limbo. The only reason he’d been chosen, in Robinson’s opinion, was his connection to Henry Archer.

“That would be telling,” Archer sniggered.

“You’re getting sappy in your old age,” Robinson stated sourly. “Hell, Jon, your only twenty-eight. Out of the four of us, you’re the youngest. Gardiner’s nearly forty with a wife and three kids. Duvall got married last year, finally, after Sue threatened to leave him. I suspect they have a kid on the way from his sentimental expression. He and I have almost five years on you. We did our time in the UESPA before transferring to Starfleet. You had it easy, with your father at the complex in the early days.”

“Real easy,” Jon slammed his glass onto the table, attracting attention of those seated nearby. “My father was forty when I was born and died when I was twelve after suffering form Clark’s Syndrome years. Yes, I knew a few of the engineers and theoretical warp physicists, but that’s not what got me a full scholarship to Stanford or into Starfleet. People seem to forget I did it on my own. Hell, even my mother was gone by then.”

Holding his hands up, Robinson stated, “sorry,” in a tone that was anything but. Still it seemed to mollify Archer. Reaching for the bottle again, Jon pushed it at A.G. along with his half full glass.

“You finish it,” Jon stated morosely. “I think, no, I know I’ve had enough.”

Robinson sighed, understanding he’d get little more out of his friend and major rival. Downing the liquid in Archer’s beaker, he capped the bottle. Standing easily, A.G. slipped what remained of the bourbon onto his jacket, considering it payment for the good deed he was about to perform.

“Come on,” he aided Jon to stand. Unsteady on his feet, Robinson had to place a supporting arm under his shoulders and take half Archer’s weight. “I’ll take you home and put you to bed.”

“Sorry,” Archer grinned wickedly, “you’re not my type.”

“Really,” Robinson shook his head, “I never would have guessed. Just as well, you could afford to lose a few kilos for your Adonis.”

Snorting Archer demanded, “you calling me fat?”

Rolling his eyes, for once A.G. Robinson refused to rise to the bait. Jon was drunk enough that he’d have trouble recalling anything once they reached the door. When the night air hit him, the older pilot knew Archer would pass out.

Jon woke around lunch time the next day, sunlight streaming though his floor to ceiling window, piercing his closed eyelids and making his head thump. Left hand failing around the bedside cabinet, Archer located a hypo and glass. Grinning, he managed to crack one lid partially open.

“Eureka,” he mumbled through a mouth as dry as the Simpson Desert.

Injecting the hypo, it took several minutes for the pounding to stop. Now able to sit up with his eyes open, Archer downed the water while looking over top of several other building to the bay. He’d have to thank Robinson. As much Jon the hated to be the older man’s debit, A.G. had ensured he got home and had the supplies he’d need on waking.

Archer padded into his bathroom and asked the dishevelled image in the mirror, “what the hell did I tell him last night to achieve this little miracle. Jonny, old boy, you look like shit. Feel like it too, truth be known.”

Snippets of conversation came back with another glass of water. Each drop of hydration seemed to energise and clear Jon’s mind. Making his way back through the bedroom and into the all-purpose living room, a few minutes later he had a coffee in one hand. Ensconced on his couch, Archer allowed himself time to think about the previous two weeks.

Friday afternoon he’d accompanied Captain Layton to Stanford for the first of their lectures. Starfleet had been given space in a remote building for their officer training, until the new facility at the Presidio could be built. That was still a year away. Jon wondered if they’d delay the opening until forty-two, coinciding with the tenth anniversary of Starfleet’s inauguration.

He had a long and lonely weekend stretching out with too much time to think. Too many of those thoughts centred around meeting Cadet Charles ‘Trip’ Tucker. Frustrated, by Saturday afternoon, Jon decided to take his irritation out at Stanford’s pool. Hooking up with some old college buddies after his workout, they took in a water polo game. Dinner and drinks followed, with the guys encouraging Jon to join them each month. Archer came to the realisation that he needed to get out more.

Monday morning, with nothing timetabled, Jon hit the simulators. He hated this temporary assignment. If he wasn’t babysitting Captain Layton, Lt. Commander Archer was left to his own devices. Before he could go to the mess for lunch, Commodore Forrest called him into a meeting. Grinning, Archer expected it, but not the result.

“Jon,” Max indicated a seat on the opposite side of his desk, next to Ian. “I’ve been hearing about the incident on Friday afternoon. Layton thinks there’s someone better qualified to do the PR lectures.”

“Cadet Tucker, Sir,” Jon supplied easily.

“Trouble is,” Forrest’s expression changed to aversion, “the dam Vulcan’s almost run Starfleet. They want someone older, more experienced on this project.”

“With all due respect, Sir,” Jon interrupted, “does humanity run Starfleet, or the Vulcan’s?”

“Sometimes I wonder,” Layton stated forcefully. “Hell, let’s put the cards on the table, Max. You and I both came through UESPA in thirty-two, we were all alive when the United Earth Government was announced in thirteen. Humanity’s come a long way, politically speaking, in the last thirty years. Yet, we’re still allowing another species to pick and choose who even gets entry into the Starfleet Officer Program. The only reason they want someone like this Tucker kid, is to keep him from one of the cargo transports. Those Boomers would pick him up in a heartbeat and give him the latitude to tinker with their engines if it increased their velocity. How the hell would it look if a merchant vessel was the first to reach warp two?”

Archer glanced up at Layton. Scrutinising the older man, he realised he’d misjudged him completely. Ian pretended to be a bumbling idiot. Nothing could be further from the truth.

“I’m constrained,” Max sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead, “by my position and the political landscape. I rely on your insight, Captain.”

“Then make the decision,” Layton stood, pacing the office. “You already have Henry’s son. Allow Archer to be this kids mentor, lead him by the hand, introduce him to all the right people. I’m telling you, when Tucker’s speaking about engines, he’s engaging, smart, funny and knows what he’s talking about. You want people to believe this thing can fly, you’ve got your vehicle. Question is, do you have the balls to go against the Vulcan overlords and use it?”

“We’ll have to make a cover story,” Forrest stated. Leaning forward, elbows on his desk, the Commodore was considering every option.

“As I understand it, Sir,” Archer carefully noted his commanding officer’s reaction, “Cadet Tucker won’t be at the academy much longer. Exams for the current class start next week. If his commission could be granted early.”

“An Ensign,” Max considered. “That might work. How do you feel, Captain?”

“A little under the weather, Sir,” Layton played along. “I believe my illness won’t get worse until Wednesday. Isn’t that when our next lecture is scheduled, Commander?”

“I believe so, Sir,” Archer responded impartially.

“The less you know the better, Jon. You’ll be contacted in due course with new orders. In the meantime, find something to do but don’t look like that’s what you doing,” Forrest dismissed.

The rest of the week passed with only a brief communique from the Commodore’s office officially postponing the remainder of the lecture tour due to Captain Layton’s sudden illness. Although Jon expected it, there were only so many hours you could spend in the simulator without a specific project. At a loss professionally, he started to do some research into Tucker’s PhD thesis. Using the information from Lt. Hemmings, Archer found himself enthralled by Trip’s enthusiasm for his father’s engine as he perused the twelve papers generated by the kid. Jon would never understand half of the engineering jargon, but he got enough to see the jungle and not individual trees.

Another week passed, without word from Commodore Forrest or Captain Layton. Archer knew the officer exams had concluded, appreciating that the cadets would gather for their final celebration before a two week leave. They’d return for graduation and their new postings. Realising it would look suspicious if Cadet Tucker was granted special dispensation, Jon knew it would be another fortnight before he could expect new orders. With little end in sight and boredom weighing him down, Lt. Commander Jonathan Archer went to the 602 with the express aim of getting shitfaced.

“Well,” he looked into the empty cup with a contemptuous chuckle, “I certainly achieved that goal.”

Retracing his steps to the kitchen, Jon made himself brunch. He enjoyed cooking, when he got the chance. Starfleet accommodations for his rank were adequate but not spacious nor well appointed. Situated on a lower floor of the building, he gazed out while the eggs poached, wondering how to spend the rest of his lonely weekend. After eating, he decided on heading out to Land’s End and a long, hard run. Maybe this evening, he’d try that singles bar where he’d met Carl.

 _Nothing ventured, nothing gained_ , Jon’s mind supplied as he feet hit the pavement. _I was getting over Nick when I met Carl. Not that I lived with Nick, or our relationship lasted that long. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet someone to take my mind of this Kid._

Pouring on the speed, Archer attempted to leave his thoughts behind. He seemed successful, until the end of his run. Approaching at an outdoor café, Jon wondered if his exercise induced odour would allow him to order a coffee without upsetting the other patrons. Before he could decide one way or the other, his communicator buzzed. Cursing, the device tagged him as a Starfleet officer, even out of uniform. Several people nearby attempted to look as if they gave him privacy. In truth they’d actively listen in on his conversation, hoping to find out if the rumours about the development of a new engine were true.

“Archer,” he responded, putting distance between himself and the cafe.

“Lecture series is a go. Ensign Tucker has been notified of the change to his leave. Monday, 0930, my office to hammer out the details,” Max made the orders short and sweet.

“Understood, Sir,” Jon swallowed, keeping his voice even.


	5. And Strength: Monday 27th June 2140

“I’m told,” the Commodore glanced between the two officers seated on the other side of his desk, “you are acquainted.”

Maxwell Forrest didn’t need the affirmative nods to feel the magnetism existing between Lt. Commander Jonathan Archer and Ensign Charles Tucker. To the best of his knowledge, they’d only met once, a fortnight previously. Jon had never been good at hiding his romantic desires, nor was he fooling anyone with the fact his eyes subtly flicked in the Ensigns direction intermittently. Tucker, on the other hand, seemed overly nervous but returned the fleeing glances on occasion. Keeping his sigh internalised, Forrest understood this could prove an advantage, or make their plans fail spectacularly.

 _I hope it’s the former, because Starfleet, the Complex and the future of the space program have a lot riding on these two, more than either of them realise_ , the Commodore’s mental sigh coloured his next words. “Good, because you’re going to be working closely together for the next month and possibly living in close quarters,” Max noted the expressions as he delivered his words. Jonathan Archer was able to keep the delight to himself, just. Ensign Tucker, on the other hand, squirmed in his seat and looked at his hands nestled in his lap, as though he couldn’t quite workout if all his dreams had come true or this was his worst nightmare. Ignoring their reactions, Commodore Forrest handed each officer a PADD with the details of their assignment. Launching into what would be expected, Max finished with “any questions gentleman.”

“Permission to speak freely, Sir,” Trip asked, sending a sideways glance at the Lt. Commander. Jon’s encouraging smile seemed to be all the incentive Ensign Tucker required to turn a baleful glare on the superior officer.

Forrest nodded, wondering what would come out of the young man’s mouth. Witnessing how this pairing seemed to worked, it proved both insightful and unforeseen. He’d be a fool not to do his homework. The personal files of Archer and Tucker had been memorised, along with their personality profiles and whatever social media information his assistant could find. In order to use the pair to full advantage, he had to know them, inside out. This lecture series was more important than most people realised. It could mean the difference between starting on the warp two engine or giving in the Vulcan requests to slow their progress further, perhaps even closing the Complex completely.

“I’m not sure what you want me to achieve, cause it sure ain’t educating people about advance warp theory,” Trip stood, his accent getting broader with each word. He thought better on his feet, his body in perpetual motion and mind able to follow. “If you just wanted the dissemination of information, any line officer could stand up and deliver it. I only got my orders last night, but I’ve been thinking there is more to this than a simple lecture series. Captain Layton has twenty years’ experience, ten on warp capable vessels. He has age and rank in his favour, unlike me. After he chewed my arse over protocol, then hinted that I might replace him, I did some research. About Starfleet procedures, the history of space travel, the politics behind Vulcan involvement, hell, I even studied regulations as far back at the UESPA and the formation of the United Earth political system. What aren’t you telling us, Commodore?”

“Sir,” Archer’s gaze flicked between Tucker and Forrest when the silence became deafening. The men regarded each other resignedly, making Jon feel as if he’d missed something vital. His mind racing, recalling the last meeting in this office with Captain Layton, the pieces started to fall into place. They’d been completely manipulated, Ensign Tucker and himself. This mission, and there was now no doubt it **_was_** a mission, aimed to keep the space program alive. They were Starfleet’s last hope.

Sighing, Max directed his stare at Archer and knew the younger officer understood humanities predicament. “Lt. Commander, please fill Ensign Tucker in on the situation with regard to Captain Layton’s health issues. I’m sure that will bring light to the subject. Until then, you have your orders. Mr. Tucker, I suggest you get started on your first speech. It will occur at twelve hundred on Wednesday at the Complex. I understand Professor Sying and her team will be in attendance, so the information from your current research maybe included. They are eagerly looking forward to your presentation. There will also be a delegation from the Vulcan High Command.”

 _Shit_ , Trip rolled his eyes before heavily slumping into his abandoned seat. “I’ve had to deal with that **_delegation_** before,” Tucker stated despondently. Shaking his head, he finally looked up into the concerned eyes of Jonathan Archer. Addressing the man with a mournful tone, Trip complained, “they’ve been watching the progress of my PhD for months, trying to find fault with every single assertion.”

“I gather you’re not a fan,” Archer stated with a mollifying smirk.

Witnessed the younger man’s confusion, Archer knew it had nothing to do with their orders. Trip was beginning to truly understand the subtle undercurrent, proving his intelligence and developing political perception. _No_ , Jon realised, watching the complex play of emotions as he sent the kid a reassuring smile, _those baby blues are the window to Tucker’s soul, and right now they exposed his inner turmoil. He’s nervous about working with me. I’m not sure why, but I guess I’ll have the next month to work it out._

“You could say that,” Tucker responded, muttering under his breath about pointy eared, interfering imbeciles. The comments caused both Commodore Forrest and Lt. Commander Archer to hold their breath and hide their snickers.

“It’s well past time you got started, gentlemen,” Forrest dismissed, finally getting his expression under control. “You have a little over forty-eight hours to get his show on the road, Ensign Tucker. I’ve booked a conference room in the Complex’s library today and tomorrow. I suggest you use it.”

“Aye, Sir,” Trip answered, already deep in thought. Jumping out of his seat once again, Tucker looked down at his commanding officer and stated, “I’ll meet you there in half an hour, Sir. I want to check in with Dr. Sying. We have another paper due for publication in a peer reviewed journal. If I can get it authorised, I might be able to add the data into a lecture. It’s sure to bowl the Vulcan’s over.”

“Then you’d better get to it,” Archer returned, watching the preoccupied individual saunter out of the office. “Was I ever that young?” Jon demanded of the Commodore as he prepared to leave.

“Yes,” Max smirked, “and not so long ago.” Forrest indicated Archer retain his seat. They’d known each other a long time and there was more he wanted to say, as a friend. “Jon, I need you to make this work, even though I can see you’re attracted to this kid.”

“Kid,” Archer made a grumbling sound, “being the ultimate word. I’m well aware of the age gap and Starfleet’s strict fraternisation policy to protect junior officers. I’m not about to let anything get in the way of your tactics.”

“Finally putting that college degree to use,” Forrest didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Or at least the minor in politics.”

“Actually,” Jon went along with the Commodore’s joke, “it was negotiation and diplomacy. If I recall, it was you who encouraged the addition of those units. Something about aerospace logistics and design not being enough for the modern Starfleet Officer.”

“I believe they’ll come in handy,” Max agreed. “You’re to handle this kid, Jon. Make a personal connection, introduce him around, pave his way, network with the right people. I don’t need to tell you how important he could be to the overall plans of Starfleet.”

“I got that,” Archer frowned, “a couple of weeks back. Sir, I always knew you were devious, I just hadn’t expected it from Captain Layton. I can’t help seeing him as a bumbling idiot, well, I did, before our last meeting.”

Roaring with laughter, Max took several minutes to get himself under regulation. “An impression he cultivates, deliberately. Amazing how well it works, even on the Vulcan’s. People say things in Ian’s hearing, not expecting him to understand. Us old men,” Forrest sobered significantly, getting his point across, “have been at this a long time, Commander. We’ve learnt the rules of game, studied the playing field and finally, I hope, are beginning to make our own moves.”

“Now,” Jon’s expression changed to understanding, “you’re attempting to teach the younger generation the subtleties of the game?”

“I want you to continue to play it, refine it,” the Commodore ordered, “and win it. I expect informal bi-weekly reports on your progress, especially with respect to our young Ensign and how his ideas go over with the audience.” As Archer stood, understanding he’d been given his real mission and dismissed, Max added in a softer, more personal tone, “Jon, keep in mind that Tucker will be a Lieutenant in less than six months. Fraternisation rules won’t apply with only half a rank between you and the age difference isn’t so great. I have every intention of keeping the Complex open and getting you promoted to full Commander on the NX test pilot team.”

Letting out a self-effacing chuckle to hide his surprise and elation, Archer stated sorrowfully, “while we might get to work together occasionally in that case, he has a reputation with the ladies.”

“I’m shocked,” Forrest stated easily. “That’s not the vibe I’m getting on this side of the desk.”

With that, Lt. Commander Archer threw an old-fashioned salute and left. He respected Commodore Forrest. The man had given him a lot to think about, especially in regards to the Kid. Stopping by the commissary, Jon picked up coffee while still thinking about his mentor’s words. It would be a long day, the two of them cooped up in a small room. Ordering lunch and more drinks to be delivered, he proceeded to the library with a multitude of misgivings.

_I have to keep thinking of Ensign Tucker as **the Kid** if I’m to work closely with him for the next month. Trips intelligence isn’t in question. It won’t take long for him to figure out Forrest veiled insinuations on his own, if he hasn’t already. As far as the material for the speech goes, I’m no help at all. I can sit there and advise on the delivery. As to the actual lectures, my job starts afterwards, introducing Ensign Tucker to the scientists and executives invited to the formal gatherings. This is going to be torture, especially if Tucker continues this edgy behaviour in my presence because it might just prove Max’s is correct and the attraction goes both ways._

As suspected, Jon found himself out of his depth just stepping into the conference room. Trip’s call to his supervisor had been short. Professor Sying stating they would speak in person after his first lecture. Tucker knew something was up from the tone in her voice. The team at MIT were stressed, which probably meant they were being forced to defend their research, again. The Vulcan High Command really didn’t like how rapidly the team were moving toward a solution to the Warp 2 engines problems. So, he’d rushed to the library and started working the material to be included in his lecture without Lt. Commander Archer presence to distract him.

 _If I can be in my zone_ , Trip told himself as he read their assignment from the PADD, _I might be able to ignore the fact he’s in the room. Hell, just sitting next to the man this morning was bad enough. That voice drove me crazy, not to mention sneaking a look at his profile. Seeing Jonathan Archer was better than the image I have in my head. Just when I’d convinced myself I’d never see him again, that I’d get over this infatuation, there he is, larger than life and not half a metre away. How the hell am I supposed to work with him for a month without given away my feelings?_

Tucker found his file on the improved plasma injectors and brought the schematics up onto the wall screens. Down loading the most recent research onto the PADD in his hand, Trip went over the material. He tried not to react when Archer entered and placed a coffee on the table. Taking a seat at the other end of the conference room, Jon sipped his cooling drink. Watching the Ensign pace, sit, stare at the diagrams on the wall screens, pace again, entered a few words into the computer and then repeated the cycle for several hours, all without sending a single glance his way, caused Jon to grin internally. The Kid was obviously trying to ignore his presence in the room, proving that maybe Commodore Forrest might have seen something Archer missed.

“I need to get out of here,” Trip stated when the door opened and their sandwiches arrived. He’d lost his train of thought when the steward interrupted, which allowed other, more distracting thoughts to crowd into his conscious. Thoughts that had been circling, interrupting Tucker’s preparation for his exams over the last two weeks.

_At least be honest with yourself_ , Trip scolded mentally, _you got the assignment you wanted, but it comes with Lt. Commander Archer attached._ _It’s just like desperately wanting to ask Melissa Lyles to dance all those years ago, but lacking the courage to approach her. You’re not standing in a corner this time Tucker. Couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You’re going to be working together, closely, for the next month so you have to get the truth out and deal with the repercussions. Shit, I wish Pieter were there to talk about this before I screw it up, cause I got a bad habit of opening my mouth and just blurting out what’s on my mind._

Waving his hand at the door, Jon indicated the Ensign was free to leave. Witnessing the play of emotions in those expressive eyes, Archer remained silent and immobile. It seemed Tucker was arguing with himself, before finally deciding on a course of action.

The younger man looked crestfallen, “aren’t you coming.”

“I wasn’t sure you wanted me too,” Archer responded lightly, his eyes never leaving Trip’s face. Right now he look and acted like a very scared trapped animal. “You weren’t this nervous around me the last time we met. Maybe you need some time alone to gather your thoughts.”

“I didn’t realise I was attracted to men,” Trip grumbled, making the sentence into a long string of syllables while one hand ran through his hair in agitation. Now that confession was out, Tucker managed to settle his nervousness, at least a little. Finally turning amazing blue, crystal clear orbs on Archer, he added in a slower, more deliberate voice, “and more specifically you, back then. I am not continuing this conversation here.”

Trying not to laugh at the demoralised picture before him, Jonathan Archer clapped Tucker on the back. Allowing his hand to settle on a shoulder he returned, “fair enough. Let’s take lunch outside. There’s a park by the bay. We can talk there.”

“The hell we can,” Trip retorted, moving towards the door quickly, muttering something about not being ready for that conversation.

 _That broke the spell_. Archer let him go, watching with a poignant expression. _This is going to be harder than I thought. I need to give Trip time to come to terms with his feelings if this mission is going to succeed, and succeed it must, not matter what we might feel for each other._

“You coming, or what,” Tucker called across the silent library.

Shaking his head, Archer’s mind found several ways to answer that question, most of them not fit for a public setting. _I don’t think Trips ready for any of them either! Patience’s Jon, and you might just get what you want, in the end. Nothing that’s worth having comes easily, or so my father used to say._


	6. I Can't Wait to Start: Wednesday 29th June 2140

Lt. Commander Robinson ensured he got a seat in the front row, even if he had to arrive half an hour early and then wrestle a few science and engineering types out of his way. The Complex wasn’t **_that_** big, and the bond between the four test pilots as tight as it could be with the continuing rivalry between them. Ten minutes after Archer left Forrest’s office Monday morning, Duval, Gardiner and Robinson knew about Layton’s ruse and Jon’s reassignment. As did the rest of the staff competing for a spot on the NX program, when it commenced.

Grinning, A.G. guessed he was about to see Archer’s golden-haired Adonis up close and personal. A little research on Ensign Tucker proved his image and qualifications matched Archer’s latest crush. Almost everyone allotted to the Complex crowded into the lecture theatre for the young engineers first public appearance. Rumour alleged he’d redesigned one of the components essential to the new warp 2 engine. Apparently, Tucker had been given permission to discuss a new theory, a confidential concept that would get the Vulcan’s off their backs.

More than Robinson’s eyebrow rose when the very youthful individual sauntered onto the stage with a charismatic aura. On the screen above his head, an impressive list of accomplishments at odds with the speaker’s youthful age. Fit and trim, Ensign Tucker filled out his Starfleet uniform like the mortal lover of Aphrodite, wearing it with obvious pride. He appeared the quintessential, newly minted officer and every bit as green. The PR department couldn’t have chosen better if they’d tried. This was exactly the kind of recruit Starfleet needed to keep going forward.

“I want to thank ya’ll for coming today,” Trip started, his blue eyes impassioned and darting around the large crowd. The audience calmed the moment he stepped onto the stage in expectation and disbelief. Oozing personality, his southern drawl took many by surprise, given the academic prowess. A million-watt smile hid Tucker’s anxiety. Little did anyone know, Trip had never played to a crowd this size, not that his body language gave him away. “My names Charles Tucker the Third, or Trip to friends, and, no, it’s not because I fall over a lot.” A quite chortle went through the crowd. Pausing, Trip waited for the mocking joke to end, before turning deadly serious. He understood, only to well, what he needed to achieve today. “I’ve been a part of Professor Sying’s team at MIT for the last four years, studying advanced warp mechanics and engineering. I guess that’s why you’ve showed up today, so we can talk about the theories behind my PhD and a series of recently published papers. Well, let’s not keep you folks waiting.”

The screen behind Trip changed to a complexed diagram. Much of what he said went straight over the top of Robinson, Gardiner and Duvall’s heads. Just listening to the kid, they understood the appeal as he kept his audience spellbound. In the shadows, Archer sat, his attention on the crowed room, eyes darting around the auditorium, cataloguing those present, weighing their importance and attitude to the NX program. Smirking, A.G. caught Duvall’s and Gardiner’s expression as they came to the same conclusion. After Ensign Tucker’s lecture ended, the kid would be swamped with questions that needed careful directing. The pilot’s understood Archer’s true assignment hadn’t started yet and it would catapult him above them if he managed to pull it off.

As predicted, the Vulcan delegation made sure they were the first and only faction to interrogate Ensign Tucker’s methodology and reasoning. His speech covered the point under contention, in detail, and yet, Ambassador Laval continued to question the validity of his data. The Starfleet personnel remained, in spite of needing to return to their duty stations. Everyone wanted to observe how this disagreement concluded, and how the young Ensign comported himself under such duress.

“I don’t think I can reiterate my point further or to your satisfaction, so I’m going to hand this over to Professor Sying, my doctoral advisor,” Trip wanted to pull his hair out. The hour-long lecture turned into torture with question time exceeding the projected fifteen minutes, thanks to the Vulcan delegation.

“Ambassador Laval,” Tanamal kept a straight face as she stood with dignity, giving the interfering alien a polite sit-down, “do not allow Ensign Tucker’s age to dismiss his numerous achievements. As you well know, for we had discussed this topic many times, both here at the Complex and my office at MIT, it is my opinion Trip is one of the most accomplished theoretical warp engineers of his generation. I can provide you with the raw data for any of the studies mentioned today. My team has run over two thousand simulations with a margin of error even the Vulcan Science Directorate would envy on the point in contention. You are welcome to make an appointment with my secretary. I shall ensure Ensign Tucker is in attendance for a more personal prospective on this work.”

“That is agreeable,” Laval said, ending the thirty-nine-minute argument as he’d obviously achieved his aim. No one else had the ability to question Ensign Tucker. Turning to his entourage, they stood and walked out of the theatre, signalling the entertainment had finally ended.

Giving a sigh of relief, Trip watched from the lectern, pretending to be busy packing away. He really wanted to ensure the pointy eared devils left. Tanamal gave him a wink before her team also retreated. Three Starfleet Lt. Commanders caught the gesture and grinned. Retaining their chairs, their concentration held by the two individuals on the stage, the pilots stayed with the intention of making as much trouble for Lt. Commander Archer as possible.

“I’m glad that’s over,” Tucker sighed as Jon finally walked towards him, signalling the end was in sight.

Charles Tucker had never felt so washed out and this was only the first of thirteen lectures over the next four weeks. Monday, as they walked by the bay, Archer warned Trip, this would be the most difficult stage of their mission, learning to work together. Tucker would need to allow Archer to make up for his deficiencies, while Jon played to Trip’s strengths. The Lt. Commander insisted any personal relationship must be put aside while they get to know each other on a professional basis. There was too much riding on the outcome to complicate matters further. That lasted all of an hour before Trips natural curiosity started peppering Archer with questions about his background, his childhood and most importantly, his father.

Jon managed to see the humour in the situation, and Tucker’s tension easing as he answered each question openly and honestly. It taught the older man more about Trip’s personality and values, allowing him to handle the younger man. However, the kid wasn’t so forthcoming with his own life story. Archer noticed the Ensign struggled and could guess why. These emotions, the attraction between them was new and frightening. Remind himself to be patient, Archer needed to allow Trip to come to terms with his sexuality in his own time if they were to have any chance of a future after this assignment.

Observing Ensign Tucker’s palatable relief now the speech and question time was over, Archer tried to supress his amusement. Jon couldn’t help calling him **_the kid_** when he got this emotional and wore his heart on his sleeve. Being so open and honest, Tucker was a danger to himself. It wasn’t surprising Commodore Forrest issued the Trip a mentor to pave his way within the bureaucracy of the Complex.

“We only have the official reception to get though,” Jon tried not to sound amused. He wasn’t looking forward to the meet and greet any more than Trip.

The Ensign looked forlorn. “Commander, is all this really necessary, meeting with all those Scientist, Engineers and Admirals. No, don’t answer that. I know it is and I’m wishful thinking. At least the Vulcan’s left. They hate parties.”

“There is that,” Jon could stop the chuckle, finally noticing his three colleagues making their expected move. Aiming a quiet whisper at Tucker, Archer said, “don’t look, but trouble’s brewing. Let me do the talking.”

“Archer,” A.G. waited until most people left the theatre before leaping up the stairs and onto the stage. Jon’s attention flicked to the rapidly approaching group. Duvall and Gardiner followed closely. All three had shit eating grins on there faces. “Care to introduce us?”

“Ensign Tucker,” Jon sighed theatrically, “meet three of the most conceited, arrogant pilots you’ll ever have the misfortune to know.”

“And we were going to buy you the first drink in celebration of your new assignment,” Gardiner smirked, holding out his hand.

Rolling his eyes, Lt. Command Jonathan Archer knew he couldn’t get out of this one. A.G. obviously opened his mouth about his new orders and Trip’s identity as the reason for his recent drunken episode last Saturday night. After doing the honours, he agreed, reluctantly, “I’ll see you at the 602 latter. Not sure when I’ll be finished with official festivities.”

“What about your friend,” Duvall questioned, carefully watching the body language between the two men.

“Trip?” Archer asked, giving the kid the opportunity to politely refuse.

“Why not,” Ensign Tucker shrugged, not really impressed with the idea of mixing with a group of Lt. Commander’s in a public but informal setting. This PR tour had already affected Trip’s career both constructively and adversely. As a new Ensign, he could get a reputation for socialising above his pay grade, one he really didn’t want or deserve, causing issues in the future. Deciding he needed to play this very carefully, Trip answered, “although, I can’t stay long. I have to prepare for the next lecture in the series.”

Archer smirked as he very deliberately checked the time. “Sorry, we’re late for an appointment with Admiral Black at the Officers commissary,” Jon announced.

Robinson was the first to offer a mocking farewell, now he’d got want he came for. Few would swap places with Archer, even if it meant he’d be promoted for pulling this off. Affectionately, or perhaps more infamously, the commissary was known as the Admirals Torture Chamber. Anyone under that rank was rarely invited into the sanctified club, nor did they care for such a summons. The Admirals were brutal, protecting their hallowed sanctuary, chewing up and spitting out anyone who dared enter without an invitation, even then, you know you were in trouble.

“Friends,” Trip asked when the pilots finally left.

“Colleagues and rivals, in that order,” Jon glowered, leading Trip to the Complex’s transport station. They’d be sharing a vehicle with other dignitaries invited to the reception. The Commissary took up the entire top floor of Starfleet HQ. Located on the grounds of the Presidio sixty kilometres away, it sported an uninterrupted and spectacular view of the Golden Gate bridge. Rank, it seemed, would always have privilege. “If this goes the right way, we’ll be fighting for that first test flight with the warp 2 engine.”

“But you got the inside track,” Tucker teased. When Archer looked at him with astonishment, Trip stated, “you know the engineer, who’ll put in a good word for you. That is, if we can pull this off.”

“Then we’d better get started,” Jon shook his head, taken in by the kids’ optimism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think of the story so far.


	7. Together and Apart: Wednesday 29th June to Thursday 28th July 2140

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Initially I was going to gloss over the after-lecture meeting with the Admirals. However, a review at FF.net made me think again. In a way I've down played the event. This chapter gives a little Trip/Jon friendship and introduces just how much of an influence Professor Sying has been on Tucker’s life, while hinting at what can be expected in future chapters. Our couple will always be the main plot of this story, how they got on Enterprise is so interwoven, that the story has to be told.

“Marty’s missed you, young man,” the voice of Prof. Tanamal Sying issued in the crowed transport a moment before Trip was engulfed in a tight hug. “You never call, since transferring to Stanford. I ought to put you across my knee and spank you.”

“Hey, Prof, for a small woman,” Tucker teased, a wide, delighted grin matching the joy shining from his blue eyes as he returned the embrace, “you sure pack a punch.”

Pulling away, the petite Indonesian woman dissected her student. Those brown orbs scrutinising, while missing nothing. “Well, someone had to look after a lanky sixteen-year-old when he moved out of home. Besides, I promised your mother I’d take care of you, when I took you on.”

“Not a woman I’d cross,” Trip responded good naturedly.

“Have you been home?” Tanamal demanded, watching Trip’s reaction. Tucker’s embarrassment told its own story. “I thought not. If you can’t bother coming to Massachusetts to see your foster family with all that research to be done, what hope does you real family have? They don’t even have any warp theory to attract your attention!”

Trip chuckled, “you sound just like my Mama the last time she called. I guess that’s why she let her baby go two thousand kilometres away to college. I want to introduce you to someone.” Pulling Jonathan Archer closer in the confined car, Tucker did the honours. “I lived with Professor Sying and her family while at MIT. It was a condition my Mama made. Like all my Mama’s decisions, it was the best.”

“Marty?” Archer asked with a raised eyebrow after the introduction.

“My five-year-old English Beagle,” Tanamal responded with a twinkle. “He was a present for my children, but I think Trip got the most out of the deal.”

“Aw, come one,” Tucker mocked, slinging an arm around Dr. Sying’s shoulders, “I took Marty for walks, with the kids. By the way, how are they doing? Rimbo must be about to enter High School?”

The remainder of the journey to Starfleet HQ proceeded in pleasant company. Jon learnt a lot about the three years Trip lived in Massachusetts. His boundless energy a perfect match for Tanamal’s four children and dog, often aided and abated by her husband. Jin taught at the local school, happy to play the homemaker while his wife gained academic acclaim for her work.

“So, I get this call,” Tanamal laughed so hard, she was almost crying as she told the story to an actively listening Archer, “from the local constabulary. Seems Trip’s decided to play a joke on the head of Science and got caught. Not a humorous bone in that man’s body.”

“I didn’t know the two of you were arguing,” Tucker defended himself. “Besides, it **_was_** funny. Even the police officers couldn’t stop laughing at my prank.”

“The departments were in a fit, when they found out the next morning,” Tanamal agreed.

“Basic science classes were better after that,” Trip smiled widely. “We had the deputy head for the rest of the term.”

“You’re lucky he let you off with a warning, and three months cleaning up the lab,” Tanamal shook her head. With a heavy sigh, all the joy evaporated. “It hasn’t been the same since you left, Trip. We miss you in the working group. Are you sure Starfleet’s really in your future? Wouldn’t you like to come back as the head of Warp Mechanics, when you become Dr. Tucker? Your students would love you!”

“I’d rather be come Chief Engineer on the first warp capable starship to leave this solar system,” Trip answered, his own voice cracking with supressed emotion. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but…”

Pulling away and placing a tiny hand on Ensign Tucker’s shoulder, the petite woman sighed heavily. “I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into, Trip. If you thought those Vulcan’s gave you a grilling, expect much the same from the Admirals. I believe Leonard, Black and Coto will attend this little soiree. They all have a vested interest, one way or another.”

Lowering her voice to a near whisper, Tanamal made sure she had eye contact. “Watch your back with Black, mean bastard but has a mutual dislike of the Vulcans, so play to that. Coto’s all about Cochrane’s ideals of exploration. However, the man’s only a Vice Admiral, so he doesn’t carry that much weight. The one you really need to impress is Rear Admiral Leonard. If anyone can get this project off the ground, he’s the man. He also has the Fleet Admiral’s ear, being his brother-in-law. Yamamoto relies on him for intelligence, so anything you say to Leonard, goes all the way to the top.”

Lt. Commander Archer didn’t bother to hide his surprise at the politically savvy woman’s information. It proved close to his own thoughts on the officers Starfleet had inherited from UESPA almost ten years ago. They’d been juniors in the game then, pushing aside the likes of Max Forrest, who might have had an original idea and gotten humanity into the stars. The admirals Jon would have liked to mingle with, the ones who vocally supported his father’s ideas, had long since retired or been promoted sideways as the Vulcan strangle hold on the NX program tightened. Lt. Commander Archer was beginning to understand the devious demands under which Commodore Forrest toiled, not to mention what he’d have to do, to be with Trip on that first Starship.

Listening to Tanamal and observing Trip’s reactions, Archer suddenly realised they’d arrived. Landing on a pad attached to the Officer’s Commissary, Jon held Tucker back, allowing the scientist and engineers to proceed them. “Make this a grand entry, Ensign,” he commented softly.

A slightly confused expression covered the younger man’s features. Waiting until the other passengers alighted, Trip took in a long, fortifying breath. He’d finally worked out Archer’s meaning when he noticed four Admiral’s in dress uniform standing near the transport’s exit. “Let’s get this show on the road, so I can get home and unwind.”

“Ah, here comes our man of the moment,” Rear Admiral Daniel Leonard greeted with a wide smile. “Ensign Tucker, Commander Archer, let me introduce you to Fleet Admiral Neoga Yamamoto,” stern and uncompromising Japanese façade, “Admiral Gregory Black,” frowning with an expression of boredom, “and Vice Admiral Manny Coto,” a slight man with piercing brown eyes.

 _Oh,_ Trip thought, _this is going to be a barrel of laughs. It’s just like that first Engineering conference I attended in New York with Prof. Sying. They all looked down on me because I was seventeen and couldn’t possibly know anything. I didn’t need to hear them saying ‘what’s that kid doing here’, I could see the thoughts on their faces. Well, you aren’t going to intimidate me. Truth is, if Starfleet ever wants to leave our solar system and really explore, you need young, intelligent individuals to pave the way. Maybe it’s time to remind you of that fact with all that protocol Captain Layton forced me to learn._

“Sir’s,” Trip responded easily, ensuring his posture was regulation at ease. “I’d like to talk to you privately for a moment. I’ve had an idea for the plasma manifolds…”

Yamamoto interrupted, “they are the component those injectors you redesigned fit into?”

“Yes, Sir,” Tucker grinned, his eyes alight with fervour.

“If we’ve upgraded one component,” Black seemed to get the idea, “then the rest of the system needs overhauling.”

“That,” Professor Sying, who’d been hung back to ensure her protégée was well received, chimed in, “has been my catch cry for several months, only you removed my access to Ensign Tucker. I hope you appreciate the resource you have acquired, Gentlemen. If not, I have offered Dr. Tucker a permanent position within my team. We are more than happy to have him back.”

The four men looked at the petite woman with scorn. Rolling his eyes, Trip knew he had to use the opening she’d created. “Let’s see if we can get Henry Archer’s engine to fly, together. There are some amazing engineers at the Complex and MIT. With a redesigned manifold….”

 _At least_ , Jon felt like a fifth wheel as they discussed a project the Admiral were obviously very familiar with, _Trip seems to have made a good impression. Oh, I spoke to soon, there was the first of Black’s barbs. If I can just steer us away from this group and into the arms of the Engineers, I’m sure we can get through this relatively unscathed. I see the Professor has a similar idea and is steering Trip towards another group. Time to take the heat, Jon, after all that’s what Commodore Forrest expects._

* * *

“So,” Archer asked a little morosely, staring at the neck of his bottle, “what now?”

Ensign Tucker gave his final lecture of the series an hour ago, followed by the obligatory mingling with the principle scientist and engineers on Earth’s orbital station. Thankfully, apart from their first function, there hadn’t been an admiral in sight. It seemed Trip impressed them enough to leave well enough alone. As an Ensign assigned to the station, Tucker had been allocated quarters in the crew section when they arrived three days ago, while Archer took up residence in temporary rooms. The young officers sparkling personality, quick smile and wit meant he’d made several acquaintances already.

Eyes lifting from his drink, Archer knew official orders for his next posting would be transmitted from Starfleet HQ and waiting on the terminal in his quarters. Trip’s had been set in stone from the moment he’d been head hunted for Starfleet two years previously. Nothing had changed in that time, even being assigned to this lecture series and meeting the Fleet Admiral. A twinkling star field in the background, the pair sat at the commissary, sharing what could be their final evening together for a while. Jon wanted to make it last as long as possible, slightly apprehensive about his next post.

“Three months up here to finish up some research,” Trip responded, eyes suddenly down cast, as if he didn’t want to think about the future.

A month in each other’s company forced the two men to become friends, not that the relationship had been difficult with the very obvious chemistry between them. Jon wouldn’t allow anything else while Tucker remained an Ensign. Neither chose to acknowledge the attraction, talk about it, or wished to take it further since Trip’s outburst the first day on their assignment. It had become their silent companion, waiting and ready to spring upon them at the perfect moment.

“Then,” Archer almost demanded. His expression softening as Tucker looked up. Those baby blues were glassy and full of unspoken emotion. Just, Jon suspected, as were his.

“Another month or two at MIT,” Trip deliberately lifted his beer as if in a final salute, “finishing up the details before I’m recalled to the Complex. I’ll have about six weeks to complete the final draft of my PhD before the oral defence. I’m not looking forward to that.”

“Oral defence?” Archer questioned.

“Yeh,” Tucker frowned, taking a large swig and calling for another from a passing steward. “Three experts in the field get to question me for about two hours and I have to defend my research.”

“Let me guess,” Jon understood only two well. After all he and Trip had met every major player in the industry over the last month. “Vulcan?”

“At least one, most probably two,” Tucker agreed. “Professor Sying can’t be on the panel because she’s my supervisor. She’ll be seated at my side to make sure the questions are fair and only about the data in my thesis. Unfortunately, there’s no one else qualified at MIT to sit on the panel. I’m not sure anyone from Starfleet would volunteer in the current climate. So, the last interrogator will be someone from another University. Probably Dr. Haiku, from Tokyo, who doesn’t agree with my theories which will work in the Vulcan’s favour.”

“Rock and a hard place,” Jon agreed, feeling for the younger man. “You allow to bring a support person?”

“Volunteering?” Trip finally smirked. It was forlorn. Obviously, he wasn’t looking forward to the cross-examination.

Archer answered with his own sad smile as Tucker’s expression told him what he needed to know. “You know I would, if I could. I bet I might even be able to answer a question or two, after listening to you sprout all those facts and figures about my father’s engine.”

“At least the lecture series did something if a pilot got the message,” Trip attempted to get the conversation onto a more cheerful topic. “I don’t think they’ll be as condescending and arrogant when I face them. All that publicity worked in my favour. Not to mention the meeting with Ambassador Laval and Professor Sying.”

Gazing at each other, Archer and Tucker recalled the ‘discussion’ at MIT. They’d barely escaped Trip’s first lecture at the Complex and the required official post function when Commodore Forrest requested their presence in his office, ASAP. Laval wasted no time contacting Sying’s assistant, demanding the meeting. Their schedule had been rearranged to accommodate the Vulcan’s ‘request’. The next lecture in the series took place at MIT on Friday at ten hundred, to be followed by a private presentation to the Vulcan representatives of the High Command, headed by Laval. A transport would leave San Francisco at eighteen hundred with Lt. Commander Archer and Ensign Tucker aboard, giving them time to liaise with Dr. Sying prior to the meeting. They’d gone home, packed and made it with only minutes to spare.

“I’ll never believe scientist are docile creatures after that,” Jon shook his head, recalling the tone of the discussion. _I learnt that Vulcan’s do possess emotions, they just attempt to repress them, some better than others. It seems Trip’s able to bring out the worst in them, arguing with emotions based in logic. Never seen a Vulcan shout before!_

A short burst of laughter had Trip’s eyes twinkling. “I remember the first time I saw Sying and the head of theoretical physics go head to head over something really stupid. They defend their position with vigour, at least that was their excuse when the dust settled. Arguing with a Vulcan, that’s a whole lot more difficult, but the data always speaks for itself.”

“What happens if you don’t pass?” Jon threw in, suddenly worried. That meeting at MIT gave new insight into the Vulcan mind set, especially with respect to how they regarded human research into warp mechanics. It seemed they’d become more severe in their approach since his father’s death.

“Not a chance in hell,” Trip’s smile lit up the room, confidence oozing from every pore. “I’ve worked too damn hard for that to happen. Besides, Starfleet wouldn’t have accepted me, or arranged the lectures if they had any doubt. Don’t worry, Commander, it’s just the politics of science.”

“I wouldn’t have believed it,” Archer groaned, “unless I’d seen it with my own eyes. Still,” pausing, he took a swallow, watching Trip’s expression, “I’d like to keep in touch.”

“Try stopping me,” Trip frowned, looking around for their drinks. After they’d been delivered, he added, “although I could take not meeting those pilots ever again.”

“You got it,” Archer chortled. “That was quite a grilling they gave you, when we finally got back to San Francisco. I’ve known A.G. and the others for years. Robinson’s one cocky SOB. You know, there’s a reason he calls himself A.G. If my parents saddled me with something like his name, I’d have changed it before entering Starfleet.”

“Well,” Trip demanded, “don’t leave me hanging in the breeze!”

“Alasdair Gilliasbuig,” Archer couldn’t hide his delight.

The laugh that erupted from Trip couldn’t be contained for several minutes. Archer joined in, more at his friend’s amusement than the very traditional Gaelic name. Tears finally drying up, they clinked the neck of their newly opened bottles.

“I’ll have to remember that,” Tucker’s enjoyment continued to light his face, “next time I’m at the 602.”

“When you finally make it back to the Complex,” Jon offered, watching the younger man carefully, “it’s a date.”

Ignoring the offer, Tucker kept his growing emotions close to his heart. Aware of the rules, he’d have to get that Lieutenant’s bar before even thinking about going down that particular road. Besides, Trip was still researching the topic in his spare time, and talking to Pieter about his experiences. Ensign Wagner made himself available to answer any question Tucker could pose, openly, honestly and without hesitation. It was helping come to terms with his feelings and acceptance of being attracted to someone of the same gender.

“You ever been scuba diving?” Trip finally broke the lengthening and uncomfortable silence. It hadn’t been heavy with expectation exactly, more laden with unspoken hope. Hope that would have to survive the next months stationed about as far away from San Francisco and Jonathan Archer as possible.

“Been meaning to learn,” the Lt. Commander answered carefully, well aware of the subtle but polite rebuff. Encouraged by the fact it wasn’t a complete no, Archer continued to test Tucker’s readiness to deepen their friendship. “I’ve heard it’s a lot like EV.”

“So, I hear. I’ll let you know, after my first spacewalk tomorrow,” Trip offered with a delighted smile. “I have to qualify to stay on the station.”

“Fail,” Jon teased with a sly smirk, “and the Vulcan will have your arse!”

Shaking his head at the pessimistic humour, Trip lent over and smacked the Lt. Commander on the head. “Not a chance. I’ve been waiting months to put my training to the test. Been looking forward to seeing the stars with my own eyes since I was a kid and this is my big chance. I’m not about to screw it up. Anyway, I’ll teach you to dive, when we’re both planet side again so you can make up your own mind. I guess we can compare notes afterwards.”

“You’re on, Ensign,” Jon found his face radiating happiness with the realisation they wouldn’t lose touch.


	8. Moving Forward: Friday 29th July 2140 to Sunday 5th February 2141

Meeting for breakfast the next morning, Jon’s expression demonstrated his disquiet. Playing with his eggs, he looked up into the concerned eyes of his friend. “My orders were waiting when I got back to my quarters last night,” he stated. “Six months on _Intrepid_ , milk runs between Earth Orbital, Utopia Planitia and Jupiter station. I’m filling in for the First Officer on a Starfleet transport. Top speed, warp 1.8.”

“Look on the bright side,” Trip tried for levity, “you get to put all that new engineering knowledge to good use and we can catch up for a beer every couple of weeks.”

“I guess there is that,” Jon answered, still not happy but finding a little light at the end of a very long and dark tunnel.

“Apart from that year on _Star Gaze_ r,” Trip looked at this from a purely professional angle, “how much time have you spent in space? Getting to know Starfleet vessels? Especially in command?”

Sighing, a slight contemptuous smirk curled Jon’s lip. “Obviously, someone thinks not enough.” Shaking his head to get rid of these feelings, Lt. Commander Archer got what Ensign Tucker was saying. Sighing again, this time heavily and with meaning, he recounted, “I served for eighteen months as an ensign, chief pilot on three different classes, before joining the test pilot group. You know about the year on _Stargazer_.”

“That’s it?” Trip demanded. “Come on, Jon,” both realised it was the first time the younger man called Archer by his Christian name and it was a game changer in their relationship. No longer were they superior and subordinate, but two Starfleet officers who were also friends discussing their careers which might intersect, with a little planning and even more good luck in the future. It seemed to cheer the Commander, while embarrassing the Ensign. Taking in a sharp breath, Tucker continued to labour his point.

“You’ve been in Starfleet over six years and only spent two and a half up here. If ** _I’m_** going to be the Chief Engineer on the first warp 5 vessel that leaves the solar system on a mission of exploration, **_I’m_** expecting to spend at least half my time in space and all of it in the Engine room. I can still work on my theories for new components while getting real experience. Hell, it might even give me ideas I wouldn’t have considered with theory and a static engine. Besides, there’s going to be periods when I’m not needed for the groundside development phase and I’d rather be using the time to my advantage. If you think just getting behind the controls of experimental vessels is enough to get on a warp 5 ship, you’re crazy. You need to be in command of _Intrepid_ , not first officer to get a leg up on the competition.”

“Maybe your right,” Archer took the time to considered Trip’s words, very carefully. They made sense. Gardiner had ten years space service and would look like a better candidate on paper, if they ever managed to construct a ship capable of more than warp 2. _Especially to the Vulcan’s,_ Jon’s mind tormented.

“Hell, I know I am,” Tucker returned heatedly. “So, when do you ship out?”

“ _Intrepid_ will be docking in three days,” Archer answered before shrugging his shoulders. “I can either spend them on Earth, or up here.”

“Three days isn’t a lot of time to pack your life up for half a year,” Trip commented, watching the man across the table. Jon’s mind was working at top speed, considering what needed to be achieved.

Snickering, Archer informed, “I live in a Starfleet apartment that will still be there when I get back. The buildings got an officer stationed in the foyer. I can get the Ensign to send anything I need up on the next transport. Besides, I brought most of my uniforms and kit for this assignment. If I require anything else, I can requisition them from the quartermaster. It’s not like I have family or many friends to visit planet side.”

“In that case,” Trip couldn’t keep the grin off his face, “want to join me for my first EV this afternoon. You know, misery loves company.”

“You’re on,” Jon’s emotions suddenly lifted with the knowledge that the next three days would prove critical in regard to his future hopes. No longer constrained by the mentor bond between them, Archer and Tucker could work on deepening their already fast friendship.

Six months passed remarkably quickly, even if there was a bump or two in the road. When _Intrepid_ departed Utopia Planitia, headed for Earth’s Orbital Station, Archer comm’ed Tucker. They arranged to meet when the vessel docked, share a meal and talk, before the older man once again shipped out. It seemed to occur about every twenty days. Trip had the ability to plan is research around Jon’s schedule, earning the pair a reputation as fast friends with the stations regular crew.

“Ensign Tucker,” Lt. Commander Archer used Trip’s rank, proving this was an official call. On their way back from their latest run to Jupiter Station, a mining colony within the asteroid belt sent out a distress call. As the closest ship, _Intrepid_ was dispatched. The situation proved more challenging and obscure than their vessel’s engineer could handle. Suggesting an alternative, Jon made the call with his Captain’s permission. “Do you know much about the technology used in mining asteroids?”

“They use a modified warp engine to power their operation,” Trip answered. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Tucker’s fingers typed commands in his terminal and brought up generalised schematics. “Gives them all the power they need to run their combined habitat and processing plant. The structure may as well be titled a space ship because they can move when they’ve exhausted one site and locate another.”

Explaining the issue, Archer asked, “think you can help?”

“I need to know more, like the vessels exact specifications, but I think so. How long do they have?” Trip became concerned with the expression on Jon’s features. “Without communications, environmental barely functioning, nothing left to power the impulse engines, this has to be a system’s wide event. Something real small and easily overlooked by an automatic diagnostic. It could take a while to track down the issue. I just hope we’re in time. Once that warp engine goes cold, it’ll be near on impossible to restart and the ship must be getting freezing, making working conditions demanding. The entire crew will have to hitch a ride back to Earth if we can’t get this located.”

“We’ve pulled all non-essential personnel onto _Intrepid_. Karabo, their engineer and her team of five, estimate they’ll go cold in six hours with the reduced numbers onboard. The colony switched to grey mode when they sent out the SOS three days ago to conserve resources. They have short range comms which is why it took so long for another ship to hear their call,” Jon explained. “We can’t patch you in on a Starfleet channel directly, so I’m going to have to relay the information.”

“Look, Commander,” Trip sighed, rubbing his eyes with irritation. He liked Jon as a person, but the man was no engineer and wouldn’t get the intricacy of Tucker’s questions, especially with such a vague issue to track down. Besides, he’d only just managed to get to sleep after a harrowing day he didn’t want Lt. Commander Archer to know about. “I know you picked up some engineering talk on that lecture tour a couple of months back, but this needs a professional speaking jargon, if you get my drift. Can your communications officer open two channels so I can at least hear the Mining Engineer? I might be able to run a diagnostic that way?”

Ensign Ho nodded, taking several moments to set up the awkward arrangement. The entire bridge crew overheard Ensign Tucker guiding his college though several complex procedures, constantly asking questions and analysing the results. The conversation took almost two hours as Trip and Karabo tossed around ideas, before finally locating a re-entry circuit causing the issue. It took another hour as they trailed several patches.

“Bingo!” The Engineer announced in her thick South African accent. “Power is flowing from the warp engine through the EPS, not going around and around in circles and overloading the crystals. Life support is coming online, we have power to the long-range communications array. Not sure about the impulse engines yet, but I can at least contact headquarters for further instructions.”

“Glad to hear it,” Trip smiled. The words took some time to get through the loud cheer from the _Intrepid’s_ crew. Before Tucker could hang up, Jon’s visage filled the screen, his attention scrutinising the Ensign.

“Looks like you saved the day, Trip,” he managed once the congratulations stopped and they were left to their own devices. Able to look at the younger man, Archer didn’t like what he saw. However, before he could say anything about the fatigue making those blue eyes dull, the Ensign held up a hand and shook his head in warning. The action stopped Archer in his tracks.

“So, it would seem, Sir,” Tucker responded with an eloquent smirk. “Half the problem with engineering issues, is tracking them down. The fix is easy when you know where to look.”

“First beer is on me,” Archer returned the smile, “when we get to Orbital.”

Trips demeanour changed suddenly. A deep frown furrowed on the engineer’s brow and his eyes darkened with sorrow. “That won’t be possible, Sir. I finished my project last week and transferred back to Earth. MIT was desperate for my return, if you know what I mean.” The expression changed again and Archer did, indeed, get the silent message. The Vulcan were once again attempting to stall the warp 2 engine. “For the next month, I’ll be crunching the data with Dr. Sying and her team. I’m staying with friends, while here in Massachusetts.” Code for hiding out at his thesis advisors’ home, just as they’d done that weekend Laval insisted on interrogating Trip a about the data he’d presented in this first lecture. “Commander, if we get this right, Starfleet as given a provisional go ahead for the next stage.”

“Understood,” Jon became lost in thought. That single sentence conveyed so much and explained Trip’s exhaustion. He, and the team at MIT, were desperate to prove some point or the other to Starfleet in spite of other involvment. That provisional status depended on it. “Keep me informed, Ensign.”

“I will, Sir,” Trip’s smile returned, although it was weaker than usual. He was attempting to say something without actually using words. Tucker could see the confusion in Jon’s eyes as he attempted to make sense of the younger man’s emotions. Sighing internally, Trip tried again with a not so veiled insinuation. “You can comm me any time you have another engineering problem, **_Sir_**. You know I’m always up for a challenge, no matter what the time of night.”

“Understood, Archer out.” Finally, Jon flicked the switch that ended the call.

 _What the hell is going on down there_ , he wondered, _that Trip doesn’t want to talk to me, much less spend time together? Three weeks ago, we were planning a diving weekend in Florida once I’m groundside. I know his stint on the Orbital Station was coming to an end, but this is kind of abrupt, even for Starfleet. Maybe it’s time to pay Commodore Forrest a not so social call, because I got the message from Ensign Tucker, loud and clear. No more personal comm’s until I’m back on Earth._

“Lt. Commander,” Commodore Forrest’s image appeared on Jon’s screen in his quarters. Weeks turned into months with several uneventful runs to Jupiter Station since Archer’s initial attempt to contact his mentor. He’d been unsuccessful every time he tried. It seemed everyone he knew was ignoring him, or at least deliberately leaving him out of the loop. Even Gardiner, Duvall and Robinson were silent. The rumours on Earth Orbital played Chinese whispers, becoming more outlandish the further they travelled into the solar system. Jon stopped listening, understanding he’d be told what he needed to know, when he needed to know what was going on. It seemed his patience had, finally, been rewarded. “I wanted to congratulate you personally, Commander, on your promotion to full grade and assignment to the NX Pilot Test Team. The rank is effectively immediately, even if the jobs still a few weeks away.”

“Thank you,” Jon stared, confused. “Obviously a lot has occurred in the last three months.”

“You could say that,” Max smiled. The twinkle in his eye suggesting Archer was about to be rewarded for his patience. “There will be a transport awaiting your arrival at Earth Orbital. I believe your survival training is out of date and needs to be completed before arriving at the Complex.”

“I was hoping for a little vacation time,” Jon stated, trying to read the situation and failing miserably. This didn’t seem like the kind of reward Max usually went for. “It’s been nearly two years since I took R and R.”

“You’ll get it, after you and Lt. Tucker manage to endure ten days in the Australian Outback,” Max kept the knowing smile off his face. Watching the astonishment flit across Archer’s features was thanks enough. “The suborbital shuttle will take you direct to Alice Springs, were you’ll meet up with your survival buddy. May I suggest the Great Barrier Reef for your two week leave. I’m told the diving is spectacular.”

“How would you know that, Sir,” Jon enquired, ensuring his voice remained respectful but hinted at his teasing. “I didn’t think you were interested in the sport.”

“I have it on very good authority,” Max smirked, enjoying Archer’s veiled insinuations. “Lt. Tucker is a wealth of information about these things. In fact, I’ve assigned him to remain in Australia and provide you with his expertise in the field. Did you know he’s a qualified dive master? He had to achieve the qualification to go along with his Marine Engineering double major. It seems the young man is keeping a lot about his academic prowess quiet.”

“Trip’s mentioned diving,” Jon stated, slightly confused, “but I didn’t know about the Marine Engineering. Although, I should have. I remember we talked about the living on the Undersea Residence. Sure sounded as if he had first-hand experience.”

“Lt. Tucker spent ten weeks on the experimental underwater habitat as part of his degree,” Max confirmed. “Seems he’s one of a very few allowed to enter the Great Barrier Reef Marine Sanctuary. If you’re with Tucker, you’ll have the privilege of one dive in that location so you’ll have to do your initial training near Cairns. I’m told scuba diving aids in EV training, the environment being similar to weightlessness and the wonders just a spectacular.”

“Lt. Tucker and I have discussed the topic before, Sir,” Jon responded. His slightly lifted eyebrow telling his mentor he understood the subtle hints. “I’m looking forward to comparing the experiences for myself.”

“I’m sure you are. Perhaps you might like to contact Lt. Tucker, personally, to discuss your assignment,” Max hinted with undisguised amusement. “I’m sure you have a lot to talk about in regard to this survival training. Commander, it’s imperative you both pass, unscathed. The Complex is going to need good people in the days ahead.”

“Understood, Sir,” Jon returned. The screen went blank, leaving the final image of Max Forrest’s delighted smile. Shaking his head, Archer had to get to the bridge, if he wanted to be on time for his duty shift. The Commodore had timed the call perfectly. It was midnight in San Francisco. When he returned to his quarters this evening, Jon wouldn’t be waking Trip so they could have a very long and informative talk.


	9. Expectations: Friday 25th November 2140 to Sunday 5th February 2141

“What the hell did I expect,” Trip kicked nearest object, which just happened to be a very solidly built, industrial sized, mass spectrometer. Continuing to mutter under his breath and hopping on his left foot, the engineer cursed, loudly. Not that anyone was within hearing distance. He’d been alone in the lab for the four days, slaving over schematic for the revamped manifold. “Serves me god damn right,” Trip fumed. “Once again, I can’t keep my big mouth shut, and before the Fleet Admiral no less!”

The rest of the team where running **_his_** numbers through the computer simulation to prove his latest modification worked. All this, on top of being recalled from Earth Orbital in the middle of the night, days before Jon was due to dock. Trip had been looking forward to what might be their last physical meeting for some months.

“That damn engine can fly!” Tucker picked up the nearest object, and hurtled it across the room in temper. “We just need to get on with the prototype and stop mucking around with calculations.”

“That will be quite enough, Mr. Tucker,” Commodore Forrest chose that moment to walk through the door. In all honesty, he’d been outside, watching the young man for several minutes. “The walls sometimes have ears.”

“Aye, Sir,” Trip mumbled, placing his injured foot gingerly on the floor and looking up at the stern faced man he’d only met twice before. Lt. Commander Archer spoke fondly of Commodore Forrest, but so far Tucker hadn’t been able to get the history between them out of Jon.

“I’ve come from a meeting with Professor Sying,” Max stated, truly looking at Ensign Tucker. Fatigue showed in every furrow on his expressive brow, his usually sparkling blue eyes were a stormy grey and those lips seemed to be in a perpetual frown. Yet, Commodore Forrest had Ensign’s complete attention. “I’m taking your new device and simulation results directly to Admiral Yamamoto.”

“Then,” Trip shook his head, finally able to take a breath as the negative expectation drained away, “you think I have enough to convince the Vulcan High Command.”

“I believe it’s time humanity started making decisions on their own,” Forrest stated sternly. “However, this teams work will go a long way to convincing the Fleet Admiral to ignore the current climate of hesitation.”

Giving the older man a confused look, Trip took several minutes to understand the hidden meaning. “You don’t want any more attention to come my way, from those pointy eared devils, do you, Sir.”

“Let’s agree,” the Commodore finally smiled, “that the blame for continuing the NX project should be shared around, Ensign Tucker. A single focus, now what do you think the Vulcan delegation would do in that case?”

“I see you’re point, Sir,” Trip sighed. “Permission to speak freely?

“Has there ever been a time you haven’t,” Max almost laughed. “I’ve only met you twice, Ensign. You’ve not been backward in coming forward on either occasion.”

Colouring, Trip’s cheeks turned red. “Sometimes I only open my mouth to change feet,” he confessed.

“A trait that’s likely to get you into trouble,” Forrest shook his head sadly. “You’re needed to badly, Ensign, to screw this up. I need that PhD completed on time, along with this side project. From now on, your data is for my eyes only and not to be discussed with anyone. Understand.”

“Not really, Sir,” Trip looked as confused as he felt. “I could take an educated guess though and say it’s got something to do with the getting funds appropriated to the NX warp 2 program.”

“I’m aware of the bond you share with Lt. Commander Archer,” Max allowed his eyebrows to rise. “Not surprising, considering the time you spent together on your last assignment. Friendship aside, all your time and energy need to be on this Mr. Tucker.”

“Understood, Sir,” Trip stated, not really sure if he’d understood.

Clapping the younger man on the back, Forrest couldn’t help the parting shot. “I’ve known Jonathan Archer for years. I wasn’t much older than you when Henry started bringing his son to work on the odd occasion. When his father died, I found a soft spot for the kid. I know Jon’s going to be just as disappointed as you at this period of silence. If all goes according to plan,” Max glared at Tucker, ensuring he took the correct meaning, “I’ll make sure your R and R coincides.”

“R and R, Sir,” Trip sounded dumfounded.

“I believe your both due leave,” Forrest smirked. “You’re going to be working on the same project, once the NX teams assembled. Makes sense to send you both on leave at the same time. Unless, you have other plans?”

“I promised to teach Jon to dive,” Trip announced, wondering why he’d blurted it out. Embarrassed, Tucker hid his face so the Commodore couldn’t see his expression.

“Jon’s as tough as nails, professionally,” Forrest said, attempting to get his message across, “but tends to wear his heart on his sleeve in his personal life. A heart that’s easily damaged, especially if lead on.”

Nodding, Trip didn’t need to say anything. He’d gotten the message loud and clear. _Hell of a time to realise Commodore Forrest’s protecting Jon’s feelings when I haven’t had time to work mine out. As soon as I get this data squared away, there’s another topic I have to research. Maybe a call to Pieter, when I get the time. That’s gotta help with all this confusion. I got another three months before Jon’s planet side again. Hopefully I’ll have it all sorted out in my mind by then._

The unexpected call from _Intrepid_ got the message across to Lt. Commander Archer, loud and clear. As much as Trip wanted to say something, he knew there was too much riding on his silence. It wasn’t until the day after his PhD had been officially conferred, along with his new rank, that Tucker expected a comm. Elated to finally be able to speak to his friend without restrictions, he accepted the call. Jon’s face filled the screen and Trip’s heart rate seemed to double, his eyes dilated and a particular part of his anatomy hardened, making sitting uncomfortable. Six months, it took that long to finally come to terms with his romantic feelings for Jonathan Archer and gain the courage to act on his emotions.

Transferring back to San Francisco after his stint at MIT, Pieter and Lee encouraged Trip to stay with them while he wrote up the last of his thesis and waited for the oral defence. Observing a loving, happy homosexual relationship first hand had been eye-opening. Having the couple aid his research removed the final hurdles in Tucker’s mind.

He’d caught up with Ed and Tony every other weekend, the two teasing Trip about his crush and giving unwanted advice on how to achieve his heart’s desire. Embarrassed, it was Lee who made it easy for Tucker to speak about Jon. Sharing perceptive looks, Trip’s friends knew he was already head over heels, especially talking about his month-long lecture tour with a goofy grin that brightened when Commander Archer’s name was mentioned. Somehow, Pieter dropped the bombshell about the survival training and vacation the last time the group met. Tucker had taken the good-natured teasing in his stride, coming to the realisation that it was time he communicated his hopes and wishes to Jon. Once he had that situation sorted out, Trip had to tell his family. While they would take his sexuality in stride, the questions would be invasive. He was not looking forward to introducing Jonathan Archer to the Tucker clan.

“Jon,” he couldn’t believe the squeak that exited. As much as Trip tried, he couldn’t make his tongue work, even though a thousand words fought to get out.

“I’m glad to finally be able to talk to you, Trip,” Archer laughed. “Something tells me you’ve missed me!”

“Yes,” Tucker agreed, his own lips curling into a delighted smile. There was so much he needed to say, to communicate. Unable to utter a single phrase, Trip was forced to stare while his expressive orbs demonstrated just how overwhelmed he felt at this reunion.

“I heard congratulations are in order, Lieutenant.” Understanding and feeling much the same way, Archer drank in the younger man. “Obviously you managed to vanquish the Vulcan’s at your oral defence.”

“Yes,” Trip responded. Sobering, Tucker’s demeanour changed and suddenly they were back to two friends with an easy comradery between them. “Prof. Sying must have pulled some strings. Even the Vulcan’s were surprised when Dr. Pauline Harrison walked in. She’s that Imperial College Engineer who came to the London lecture. She works as a consultant for Starfleet.”

“I remember,” Jon frowned. “She took quite a shine to you.”

“Right,” Trip shook his head with self-mocking amusement. “Until she published her next paper. Pauline was trying some intellectual espionage. Their team was a few months behind MIT and she was hoping to expose secrets by turning my head.”

 _Was that a confession, of sorts_ , Jon simply watched the younger man’s cheeks colour. “I gather she didn’t get what she was after.”

Snorting, Trip answered with a chuckle, “not a chance. Anyway, turns out the team at Imperial have no time for Vulcan’s,” Trip shrugged his shoulders, “and Dr. Harrison was only too happy to help out.”

“Still, completing your PhD and getting your promotion’s a big deal, Lieutenant,” Archer stated.

“Tell me about it,” Trucker rolled his eyes, before breaking into a million-watt smile. “Mama and Daddy want to throw a big party next month to celebrate. My older sister will be there.”

“The one studying to be a medical doctor at Trinity in Dublin?” Jon asked, recalling some of the conversations they’d shared in regard to the Tucker family.

“Yep,” Trip’s eyes twinkled, “Vicky’s even bringing her new husband. My younger brother and sister are still in high school and living at home. I think Mama’s invited the whole extended family.”

“Any other invitations you need to extend,” Jon hinted, feeling slightly put out.

“Not that I can think of at the moment,” teased the younger man with a half chuckle. “By the way, I hear congratulations are in order, Commander. The NX program Test Pilot team, who would have thought we’d both be working at the Complex for the next couple of years. Although, I have to say, I’m not looking forward to the desert training. Commodore Forrest said I had to pass, to get onto Captain Jeffery’s team.”

“You grew up in Florida,” Jon recalled, “it’s hotter than hell down there. The Australian outback should be a breeze for you.”

“It’s the dry heat I abject too,” Trip’s expression spoke a thousand words as a shudder made its way down his spine. “Florida’s wet and humid, it’s got miles of water filled with gators. I understand those things. Snakes, creepy crawlies, baking on all that dry, red dirt, that’s just not human.”

Letting out a howl, Archer realised how much he missed this, the near constant commentary, the easy dialogue and open expressions. Trip had a knack of saying exactly what came into his head without putting it through a filter first, especially when riled or speaking to someone he was completely comfortable with. “Just think of the fortnight in Cairns afterward,” Jon tried for optimism.

“Wasn’t quite what I’d planed,” Trip’s expression changed again, becoming disappointed, “when I suggested learning to dive. I was thinking more about you meeting my family and using old Uncle Bob’s beach hut by the marina in the Keys. Seafood diners, caught fresh and eaten under the stars at twilight. I guess Cairns will have to do.”

“Some time in a tropical paradise, just the two of us,” Jon responded, understanding Trip was a closet romantic. He rather liked the pictures forming in his mind’s eye. “I’m sure we can find somewhere that holds up to your expectations.”

“At least the company will be good,” Trip responded in the same teasing tone before turning serious. “I need to talk to you about spending all our vacation in Australia.”

“Our vacation?” Jon asked, his heart beat increasing. While he might wish for some time to develop their friendship into a relationship, the thought of spending almost a month in each other’s exclusive company was more than his mind could cope with at the moment.

“I haven’t had leave,” Trip stated, “since starting officer training. I’m owed two weeks.”

“Commodore Forrest,” Jon swallowed, “put you up to this?”

“Nope,” Trip grinned, “but he did suggest it after talking to me about my time in the Undersea Residence. I told him about promising to teach you to dive and he thought it would be a good idea to combine the survival training with some sightseeing in Australia.”

“If you don’t want to spend the entire time diving,” Jon shuddered, wondering what he was about to get himself into, “what are your plans for the second week.”

Looking a little embarrassed, Trip finally looked directly into the camera and confessed, “I promised Mama I’d spend the second week in Florida and that I’d like to bring someone with me. Now they’ve heard all about you, you’re going to have to make an appearance.”

“Trip,” Jon didn’t quite know what to say. Analysing the kid, he’d altered in the last few months. More at ease with himself, something monumental had changed. It was then, Archer suddenly realised they were flirting, subtlety, but flirting none the less. _This_ , Archer wanted to jump for joy, _is a good sign._

“Jon,” Trip returned, blue eyes softening, tone turning intimate as he realised Archer understood his implication.

“I’ll be landing in Alice in ten days,” Archer responded to the tenderness, “we’ll be able to talk in person then.”

“I’m going to keep you to that, Jonny,” Trip tried out the name his mind assigned to the older man, when he’d finally made peace with the fact he wanted Archer as more than a friend.

A shy smile encompassing his lips, the Commander shook his head, wondering if, just maybe, his dreams had come true. “I think,” he hesitated, attempting to read Trips responses to his words, “this talk might be long overdue.”

“I had some things I had to work out first,” Tucker confessed, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. “I’ve had a friend helping me. Pieter and his partner Lee have let me stay with them while I finished up my thesis at the Complex. The experience has been enlightening.”

“Coming out’s never easy,” Jon conceded, “but it sounds like you had good friends to support you.”

“I hope,” the blush increased, as the young man asserted, “I’ll soon have a good boyfriend to support me as well.”

“I’ll have to see what I can arrange,” Archer spoke softly, trying to pacify his rapidly beating heart and encourage Tucker’s hesitant emotions. “It’s going to take time, Trip. I don’t want to rush this.”

Nodding, both knew they’d entered a new phase of their relationship. In silent agreement, the men ended their very emotional call. Each needed time and space to think about the feelers they’d extended, and the natural way in which they’d been accepted, almost without any expectation.

Jonathan Archer knew this fledgling relationship would be life changing, the one he’d been waiting for, his forever. He’d known that first evening, talking to Cadet Tucker outside Starfleet’s classrooms on his Alma mater campus. Trip, on the other hand, was filled with trepidation and excitement in equal quantity. It had been almost seven months since he’d been physically intimate with anyone, longer since given his heart away and he was ready to take up the challenge. The mechanics of making love with a man intimidated him. However, Charles Tucker understood his heart wanted one particular person and no one else would do.


	10. Australia: Wednesday 15th February to Thursday 2nd March 2141

“I’m so dam cold,” Trip complained, edging close to Archer in their two-man tent. “Doesn’t the Starfleet handbook say something about sharing body heat in a situation like this!”

Sighing, loudly and theatrically, Jon unzipped his sleeping bag and shivered as the cold bit into his flesh. They’d decided carrying a set of clothing for sleeping would be a waste of valuable weight and space in their packs. So, the two men chose to strip to their blues before crawling into their bed. “Some people will do anything to get me in the sack,” he teased lightly.

Understanding, Trip grinned wolfishly and quickly followed suit. Connecting the standard issue survival equipment, they finally settled down, spooned together in the larger bag. Until Trucker stuck his frozen feet on Archer’s calves.

“Do that again, Lieutenant,” Jon grumbled menacingly, “and you can take your chances alone in the desert with all those creepy crawlies for company.”

“Aye, Sir,” Trip responded, refusing to remove his icy feet.

“You hate the dry heat,” Jon protested weakly, “you hate the cold, what kind of explore are you going to make?”

“No one told me to pack thick socks for night-time,” Trip returned, attempting to move even closer. Now he’d finally manage to get Jon to share his warmth, he could put the second part of his plan into action. “Or that the desert would get to below freezing once the sun went down. Hell, it stays hot in Florida all the damn time.”

“Trip,” Archer sighed, well aware of the younger man’s strategy, “we’ve talked about this earlier today. I’m not getting physical with you until you’re ready, and you’re not, no matter what you want to believe. You need to be patient. Just because it’s been months since you had sex doesn’t mean we’re going to rush into the physical stuff. Especially,” Jon stopped the burgeoning protest, “as we’re officially on duty for the next ten days.”

Snorting, Trip gave his thoughts on the subject. “I just want to cuddle, because I’m cold.”

“You want to start with cuddling,” Archer reprimanded. “I’m more than aware of the way your mind works. Now, go to sleep, Trip, that’s an order. We have a long hike tomorrow with you bellyaching the whole way about the heat. You know,” Jon added with a sigh, “I’m still trying to work out how you made it into Starfleet.”

“They wanted my brains,” Trip mocked, “although, I think the brawns rather well developed too.”

“At least that’s something we can agree on,” Archer responded in a similar tone.

Making a very unimpressed noise in the back of his throat, Jon couldn’t keep the smile of his face at Trip’s ineloquent answer. Tucker, Archer was learning, once he made his mind up, went full speed ahead and damn the consequences. By the time they’d meet in Alice, Trip convinced himself they were already in a relationship, which was true, to a degree. They’d been flirting over the comm every night for the last week, getting verbally bolder with each other.

Trip had been waiting for Archer to land, greeting him with a very manly bear hug. While others had been around, Tucker managed to keep his feelings, and flirting, to himself, proving he was very private about his romantic entanglements. However, once they’d been dropped at their site, given directions and left to survive, the younger man allowed the heavens to open up and proceeded to tell his Jonny everything that occurred in the last three months while he’d been incommunicado and stationed on _Intrepid_. It took most of the afternoon before Lt. Tucker’s mouth finally stopped moving. It wasn’t until they’d made camp and sat around the small fire that Archer had the heart to come clean and lay down the rules for their developing relationship.

“Trip, I’ve been here before,” Jon started in a mild, appeasing tone, “unlike you. I’ve dated within Starfleet and that didn’t go well. I was about your age, still at Stanford as a cadet and didn’t care who knew we were involved. I even lived with someone for two years. Not that he was connected with my father’s engine in any way.”

Swallowing, Trip had to ask, “you ever been with a woman?”

Smirking, Jon looked into the fire. “Early in my mis spent youth. At high school, I had the same girlfriend for a number of years. Everyone thought we’d get married, have a couple of kids and live happily ever after. It wasn’t until I started at college, on the water polo team actually, that I became attracted to another player and understood that I’m more into men than women.”

“How many relationships have you had?” Trip asked, intrigued at this side of Archer. They’d never really talked about his romantic life.

“A.G. calls me a serial monogamist,” Jon chuckled, “and he’d right. I’ve dated, between the three serious relationship. As I was saying, my first boyfriend was also Starfleet, a Lieutenant in operations.”

“While you were a cadet?” Trip looked astonished.

“That’s part of the reason,” Jon confessed, “I’ve waited until our rank is within the frat rules and for you to approach me.”

Nodding, Trip finally understood Jon’s caution. A relationship between them would have to be initiated by the junior officer. Archer had given him the time and space to come to terms with is feelings. Still, Jonny wouldn’t have said anything, or acted on his emotions, without some major encouragement from Lt. Tucker.

“So, Trip, I have to lay down some ground rules, from personal experience. On duty, were Starfleet Officers,” he’d gained and kept Tucker’s gaze as they sat by the camp fire on their first night in the outback. “No touching, no verbal foreplay. We’re here to pass this survival training. In the future, if our paths cross, you’re my subordinate, understand.”

“Yes, Sir,” Trip stated, a little taken back.

“Off duty, that’s something we’ll have to work out, slowly,” Jon stated with determination.

“How slowly are we talking about?” Trip returned heatedly. Taking up a stick, he started poking at the fire, lost in thought.

“As long as it takes for you to be comfortable with the physical aspects of our relationship,” Jon retorted, moving close enough for their hips to touch. “You may have done the research, come to terms with your feelings, but you haven’t experienced it.” Reaching out a hand, Archer delicately ran the pad of one finger down Tucker’s cheek, the younger man flinched slightly at the unexpected contact. Sighing, Jon saw the moment Trip finally understood. “Patience, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want, more than you expected, but you have to be ready. I’m not going to take you any other way.”

Nodding, they got ready for bed. Rolling his closed eyes, Jon gathered the now sleeping man into his embrace with the understanding his paramour was a fast learner. Trip manipulated them into sharing a single large sleeping bag on their first night together in months. While it boded well for their future, it proved Tucker would go to any lengths to get what he wanted.

 _It’s going to be a long ten days_ , Jon sighed internally, hoping Tucker couldn’t feel his erection growing by the minute, _and even longer ten nights_.

Lt. Tucker remained silent on their second day as he mulled over everything they’d spoken about the night before. Packing up the camp and starting out on their ten-kilometre hike in the blistering heat, Trip trudged one step behind Commander Archer, his mind on Jon’s rules, while his eyes feasted on the man’s very attractive derriere.

Shuddering, Jon knew the younger man was planning his revenge by the look of concentration in those baby blues. The outback had other ideas as they found survival becoming more difficult with each passing hour. The terrain never changed. Flat, red and without shade, they soon understood this challenge would take more than endurance and courage. They needed to be smart about their tactics for getting back to Alice Springs alive.

Dropped over one hundred kilometres from the outback base, they had ten days to make the torturous trek with limited supplies. Ten kilometres a day in most environments would have been easy. Both men were fit and knowledgeable. They’d discovered a mutual passion for rock climbing, hiking, football and swimming. However, the dry heat Lt. Tucker feared, sucked the life out of both of them. The desert creatures were deadly. A single bite or sting might end in evacuation to Starfleet’s base at Alice Springs and failing their survival test. They soon learned to walk in the early morning, just after dawn, rest in whatever shade they could find and continue for several hours after sunset. Each night they had to collect and recycle as much water as possible. On the fifth day, Archer managed to catch a snake as their limited rations where exhausted. Trip ate the offering, but not happily or silently. 

Trudging into base camp on day ten, filthy, covered in red dust, tired, hungry and thirsty, the pair handed over their trackers for analysis. Assigned quarters, they used the last of their strength to shower before falling into separate beds. Food or conversation, at this point, wasn’t a high priority.

“I hear you Yanks are on the transport to Cairns this afternoon,” a young and strikingly attractive Lieutenant stated, checking the two men out. Without asking, she slipped in beside Trip, her breakfast tray holding toast and tea. Looking at their loaded plates, she guessed, “you two just finish survival training.”

“Got in late last night,” Trip answered politely. He’d wanted time alone to talk to Jon about their week in Cairns. Yet, his natural charisma seemed to be attracting a lot of attention, especially of the female variety.

“I’m a local, I could show you guys around Alice, if you like?” she offered in a broad Australian accent. “The towns not that big. We’ll be all done in time to catch your shuttle.”

Jon, seated on the other side of the table, sent Trip a look that said, _get out of this one because I’m not helping you_. Shovelling a forkful of eggs in his mouth, he almost managed to hide his silent amusement.

Rolling his eyes, Tucker shocked the senior officer and responded with his own challenge. Turning towards the young woman a few years older than himself, Trip played his ace, that broad, million wat smile that had always attracted the girls in the past. It seemed he hadn’t lost his touch. ““You’re on. I’m not sure I’ll be back this way again. Name’s Charles Tucker, but my friends call me Trip.”

“Trip?” the Lieutenant asked, flicking her hair over one shoulder. Her attention focused on Tucker, she almost forgot about the older Commander seated on the other side of the trestle table.

“Long story,” Jon chimed in, smirking. _Well, you have to face it, Jon old boy, if you find Trip attractive, you can’t blame this Lieutenant for feeling the same way. Just as long as he looks but doesn’t touch, we’ll be okay._ “Short answer, Trip tends to fall, a lot.”

That statement was greeted with another eye roll and a knowing look. Shaking his head slightly, Trip warned in a mischievous voice, “play nicely Commander, and I might decide to teach you to dive this week, not leave you stranded on the reef to take your chances with Waldo.”

“Who’s Waldo?” Archer asked, somewhat intrigued.

Grinning like a kid in a candy shop, Trip returned his attention to the woman seated beside him. “You have a name, Lieutenant.”

“Penny,” she answered easily, holding out a slim hand, “Penny Goulding. Head of Base Engineering Core. Hope you don’t mind if we speak shop, Commander? I heard you’re a pilot and we don’t have much use for those on base.”

“Go right ahead,” Jon attempted to hide his smirk. Trip had been played by the beautiful woman. “In fact, I think I see Lt. Commander Hughley. We attended officer training together back when the dinosaurs roamed this part of the planet. I’d like to catch up, so I’ll leave you kids to talk shop. 1400, Lt. Tucker. That’s when our transport leaves. Make sure you’re on it!”

“Aye, Sir,” Trip eyed the older man, his expression stating he’d better watch is back.

“My husband and I saw you,” Penny’s attention solely on Tucker as she nibbled at her toast, “give a lecture in Sydney. Steven’s applying for the Complex, with the hope of getting onto Captain Jefferies Engineering Team.”

“Hell,” Trip threw his fork onto his plate. Appetite gone, his expression turned murderous. “Sometimes I wished I’d never done that series.”

“Oh, come on,” Penny shoved the young officer with her elbow, her tone teasing, “you’re going to spend a week with your lover. Don’t give me that look, I could have cut the air with the sexual tension between the pair of you. Besides, the Commander was giving me the ‘you can look but don’t touch’ glare because he’s mine. Give me this morning. I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Alice is a great little town. You can pay me back by answering my engineering questions.”

“You just convinced me,” Trip smirked, noticing Jonny watching his playful banter with the stunning woman at his side. “This might actually work in my favour.”

Letting out a tinkling laugh, Penny encouraged Trip to finish his breakfast. “You want to make that 1400 shuttle, Tucker? I’m not about to get chewed out by Commander Covetous if we’re a minute late.”

“You telling me Jon’s jealous?” As much as Trip wanted to peek, he knew it would spoil the effect.

“Green with envy and not caring about who knows it. You sure got that man wrapped around your little finger,” Penny answered, dipping her toast in her tea. “What,” she swallowed the soggy bread, “it’s an Australian thing. You Yanks wouldn’t understand, stuffing all that cholesterol down your throats. Eat, I got a lot to show you.”

A hover bike skidded onto the pad with moments to spare, depositing Trip in front of the flyer. Waving good bye to his guide, Tucker climbed in beside the Commander, a grin the size of the Grand Canyon on his face. Waiting until the vehicle lifted off, Archer requested, “so?”

“Amazing,” Tucker stated, eyes wide with wonder.

“Town, Lieutenant or hoverbike?” Archer asked sardonically.

“I have to choose,” Trip returned. “Actually, there’s a lot of history in that small town and Penny’s related to the local Aboriginal tribe. Her husband’s an engineer as well. They restored the bike together. Steve’s currently on space duty. Due back any day now. She really misses him.”

“Oh,” Jon swallowed. He’d miss read the situation completely.

“What,” Trip played with the older man, “you thought….”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Archer’s tone turned gruff. “Monogamist, remember. Straying is a deal breaker for me. You can look, even admire, but touch and you might as well pack your bags.”

A hard gleam entered Tucker’s blue orbs. “Goes both ways Darlin.” They shared a moment of intensity that would stay with them for years, before Trip smiled. “That mean I get to move in once we reach San Francisco?”

Catching the humour, Archer responded with, “always wanting to put the cart before the horse. Let’s see what comes up this week.”

“I’m hoping a whole lot,” Trip made a movement which ‘accidently’ brushed Jon’s groin. “I see it already has some potential.” Leaning in so he wasn’t over heard by the rest of the passengers, Tucker whispered, “I imagine you’re going to be mightily uncomfortable by the time we get to the hotel, cause I intent to make damn sure you’re ready. I called ahead and cancelled my room. No use paying for quarters we ain’t going to use.”

“Trip,” Archer gave the younger man one of his command glares, “patience.”

“To hell with patience,” he returned though gritted teeth. “And you ain’t my boss in the bedroom, Jonny, so don’t even think about that Alpha male stuff in this relationship. I expect you to bottom.” Watching the expression’s cross Archer’s face, Trip gave one of his trade mark shit eating grins. “I told you, I’ve done the research. Pieter and Lee were a wealth of information. This week is about you showing me how to put it into practice. And we ain’t sleeping in separate rooms while staying with my Parents.”

Nodding and swallowing hard, Jonathan Archer couldn’t speak. The following week proved enlightening. By day, Trip was the instructor, teaching Jon to dive, or they took in the sights surrounding Cairns, often walking hand in hand. At night, he taught Tucker exactly what delights a loving relationship held. Archer, taking the lead, ensured he spoke about anything they were going to do, before demonstrating. Trip often complained about less talking and more doing, only to have his Jonny stop completely and glare. Tucker soon learnt to shut his mouth and listen to the older, and far more experienced man.

“Are you sore,” Archer asked. Trip lay sprawled beside him, sweat from their exertions cooling in the air-conditioning. They’d made love last night, but Tucker had been on top. Jon learnt Tucker experimented with anal sex once before and wanted him to understand the differences between making love to a man. The mechanics were much the same, even if the technique had to be varied a little. Tonight, Jon needed to teach his lover the final steps to fulfilling their relationship, so they could both enjoy giving and taking.

“A little,” Trip confessed in a sleepy voice, “not as much as I expected. I really didn’t need to know why you were doing some of those thing’s Jonny.”

“Patience,” Jon smirked, rolling over to watch his lover. Placing a hand in the middle of Trips back, he rubbed circles, enjoying the physical contact. “And preparation’s the key, Sweetheart. We’re never going to do anything without both of us being ready.”

“Go to sleep,” Trip complained. “I don’t want to hear you say ‘I told you so’ any which way.”

Kissing a salty brow, Archer whispered, “spoilsport. Besides, I was going to ask if you had anywhere to stay in San Francisco, now you’ll be assigned to Captain Jefferies for the foreseeable future.”

“Called Pieter,” Trip’s words were slurred at the edge of sleep. Rolling over, Tucker snuggled up, allowing Jon to spoon is now replete body. “And had him dropped my things at your building. Ain’t sleeping without you ever again.”

A snore greeted Jon’s response. “Well, thanks for waiting for me to make the offer official.”


	11. Meeting the Tucker's: Friday 3rd March 2141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have revised this chapter so many times, until it grew to more than 5K words. I’ve split it into three separate chapters and every time I edit it before publishing, more seems to get added. So, I’m publishing tonight, no matter what. I hope you enjoy

“Trip,” a blue eyed, blond woman in her late fifties rushed out of the two-story house. The soft English accent took Jonathan Archer completely by surprise, as did the diminutive stature of the peaches and cream Anglophile. Her porcelain skin had the Commander wanting to usher the diminutive woman inside, in case she burnt under the hot Floridian sun. Taking her baby into her arms, Trip’s mama hugged for all her worth, forcing her son to bend almost in half. There was untapped strength in that embrace, not to mention the woman herself.

Charles Tucker III deliberately ** _didn’t_** tell Jon about his mother’s exuberance or heritage. The woman had been over the moon to hear her son had finally found someone. The words, ‘it’s about damn time’ were accompanied with an eye roll when Trip confessed his attraction to Lt. Commander Jonathan Archer over the comm. He’d told his Mama about his struggles to come to terms with falling for a man, and that Jon had been waiting for a signal for them to start something. Detailing their plans for Australia, his father’s face appeared over his Mama’s shoulder, stating ‘I thought it would never happen, Trip. I’m glad you finally came to your senses’.

“Well, now,” blue orbs, an exact match for Tucker’s, shone with delight as she released her son before looking towards her next victim, “you must be my Trip’s Jonny. Welcome to the family.”

Jonathan Archer found himself greeted with the same fervour. “Mrs. Tucker,” Jon finally managed to extract himself after almost a minute, wondering what sort of Starfleet Officer she’d make. He’d follow her anywhere, based solely on sheer force of personality. Understanding where Trip got his charm, Jon wondered what trouble he’d find himself embroiled in over the next week with two such dominate characters. _And I haven’t even met the rest of the family yet!_

“We’ll have none of that here, young man,” Alice Tucker remonstrated, one hand on a hip, the other staking a finger at the Commander as if a naught boy who should know better. In another situation, Jon would find this funny. “It’s Mama. I expect all my kids and their significant others know better than calling me Mrs. Tucker. Trip, you should have told your boyfriend before arriving. Shame on you.”

Glaring at her son, Archer watched on fascinated. Lt. Tucker blushed, before muttering something that sounded like, “yes, Ma’am.”

“Now,” Alice continued, as if she hadn’t just chastised her adult child and ushered them into the house, “let’s get you two inside and settled in your room. I want to hear all about your survival training. Trip’s not known for liking dry heat, so I’m sure you have more than one story to tell us, Jon.”

“Yes,” Archer smiled, copping a significant glare from Trip.

“Bathroom’s through there,” Alice pointed to a doorway, before stopping further down the upstairs hall. “Get out of those uniforms, then you can come down and meet Charlie, James and Lizzy. That girl’s been like a jack in the box since she got out of bed.”

A wide grin settled on Trip’s face. “When would that have been,” he teased, letting Jon enter the guest bedroom first, “just after lunch? I guess she’s really turned into a teenager since I been away.”

“That’ll be enough cheek out of you,” Alice stated, pushing her eldest son towards his childhood room. She didn’t show her surprise when he steadfastly refused to move.

“We’ll introduce you to the rest of the immediate family at dinner,” Alice Tucker continued to prattle, watching her son’s unwavering expression and even more determined stance to share a room with his lover. It informed her about the permeance of this relationship, making her eyes shine with delight. “I’ve made Catfish and pecan pie, it’s Trip’s favourite. The rest of the folk will be at the party tomorrow, so you’ll meet the extended family then.”

“Just,” Jon asked Trip when they were left in the guest room alone and able to talk freely, his head spinning, “how many people are we talking about?”

“Just my Daddy, and my younger siblings this afternoon,” Trip stated easily and completely unfazed as he continued his task. When Archer nodded but continued to glare with his commander’s expression, Tucker considered the question further, unsure why Jon seemed a little put out. “You’ll meet James’ latest girlfriend, I think her names Beth, and Lizzy’s boyfriend, whoever than might be at the moment, tonight,” he shrugged. “Possibly old Uncle Bob as well, if he’s come up from the Keys. Grandpa Chuck, that’s the original Charles Tucker lives with Mama and Daddy since Grandma passed a couple of years back. Vicky and her husband, Rory, are sharing Grandpa’s studio in the back yard. So, there should be about ten or twelve for dinner. Nothing unusual.”

“Nothing unusual,” Jon slumped onto the bed, facing his young lover with astonishment.

“Something wrong, Jonny?” Trip asked confused, pausing, bag half unpacked on his side of the room.

“Hell no,” came the biting response, hazel eyes boring into the younger man. “It was only ever my father and mother at the dinner table on a good night, and that was when Henry Archer could pull himself away from the study. Dad died when I was twelve and my mother eight years later. I was living on campus at Stanford by the time I was seventeen.”

“Oh,” the penny finally dropped. Moving around the bed, Trip sat next to Jon, placing a hand on his thigh. “You been on your own a long time. We come from different worlds in a lot of way.”

“Apparently,” Jon blew out a breath, covering the offered olive branch and linking their fingers. “I’m not sure how I’ll handle that many people, Trip. It scares the hell out of me.”

Grinning, he responded, “you won’t get a chance to worry about it. Ah, Jonny, just think of it as training for meeting a new species, a first contact of sorts. Hell, if you can handle those Admirals, this will be easy. My family already love you, because you make me happy. They won’t do anything to upset you, but they might put you on the spot and ask uncomfortable questions. You’ll need to watch my baby sister! She’s worse than me.”

“How?” Archer allowed one eyebrow to rise. “I’m still trying to understand how you manage to put both your feet in your mouth at the same time. I can’t imagine another person, even with the same genetics being any worse!”

“Ha, ha,” the sardonic rejoinder was accompanied by an expressive eye roll. “I know you think I shoot from the hip, but Lizzy,” letting out a laugh, Trip stated, “she’s in a class of her own, even for a Tucker. That girl just says whatever comes into her head. Being fifteen, it can be a bit intrusive and almost always insensitive.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Jon sighed. Not sure what he’d gotten himself into, Archer reluctantly rose. Sighing, he looked into Trip’s clear blue eyes and found only acceptance and empathy. Drawing away from the contact, their hands slipped from one another’s, allowing them to finish unpacking. “Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tucker smiled lovingly. “I won’t leave your side, I promise. If you need a break, just let me know. The ocean’s not far away, we can take a walk before dinner.”

“I thought I could smell the sea when we arrived,” Jon agreed with a sigh, preparing himself for the ordeal that was about to happen, whether or not he liked the idea.

Charles Tucker II, known as Charlie, wasn’t quite what Commander Archer expected. He was nothing like Trip. A tall, quiet man with intense green eyes and a more tanned complexion, Trip took after his father in terms of physique, but everything else was purely his mother. Elizabeth, or Lizzy, the youngest of the Tucker’s four children could have been a copy of her mama at a younger age. James, at seventeen, looked like his father, sandy blond hair and hazel eyes, bordering on green. Trip called him Jamie, earning his elder brother a malevolent glare. James Tucker had the ability to look through a person, paused before speaking as if choosing his words carefully and used as few as possible to get his point across. In this, father and son were startlingly similar, making Jon feel put under an electron microscope by the Tucker men.

“Where are Vicky and Rory?” Trip asked, when the initial introductions were concluded.

Standing beside his lover, Archer attempted to take in the crowd already in the Tucker’s living room. Mr. Tucker sat in a comfortable looking and well-loved arm chair. Its twin reserved for his wife. Lizzy indicated the cushions on either side of her, directing Trip to bring Jon over to the three-seater so she could start her interrogation. James, on the other hand, held up one of the living room walls, his eyes flicking over everyone in the room and ignoring the remaining couch. He watched, assessed, calculated and Jon felt dissected by Trip’s younger brother.

“Vicky took Rory sightseeing,” Mr. Tucker, stated in a quiet, deep tone, sending a warning expression in his youngest son’s direction. James sighed and opened his body language. “They’ve only got a few days leave. Rory has to be back at work Monday morning and Vicky’s got classes.”

“The wedding,” watching Jon’s confused expression, Alice explained “was held in Ireland just before Trip started at Starfleet. Vicky knew he wouldn’t get any leave for the ten months he was at Stanford, so they brought the ceremony forward to July. Vicky and Rory wanted all of their brothers in the wedding party. I have some pictures I’ll bring out later.”

“Mama,” Trip protested. Still, he’d anticipated this and knew Jon would enjoy learning more about his childhood.

“I’d love to see them,” Jon added, smiling and flicking a glance to the man beside him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Trip was embarrassed.

“Then I’ll find them after dinner,” Alice smiled.

“Be prepared,” James stated. “Once you get mama started, you’ll have a hard time stopping her.”

“You know, Mama,” Trip once again chimed in, hoping to save Jon from hours of tales about his mis spent youth, “Rory’s never been to Florida so he hasn’t seen any of the albums you keep of Vicky.”

Smiling, the thought of having two of her children’s partners as a captive audience obviously pleased the woman. “You’ll meet them, along with Grandpa Chuck at dinner, Jon,” Alice explained.

“We Tuckers,” Trip’s hand found its way into Jon’s, leading him over to the couch, “move over Lizzy, you ain’t sitting next to Jonny and scaring him half to death with your constant chatter. Don’t try that quivering lip look with me, it stopped working years ago. He’s nervous about meeting the family without your invasive questions. Besides, Mama’s going to embarrass me enough with that damn photo album. Anyway,” sending a teasing glance at Jon, Trip continued as if the interruption with his sister hadn’t occurred, “as I was saying, Tucker’s don’t marry locals.”

“You don’t?” Jon found himself in somewhat of a quandary. This was all getting just a little too much. Speaking about marriage, Archer hoped it had to do with Vicky and Rory. Trip pushed him into the corner seat before the Commander could get another word out, and then forced his sister to move over by almost landing in her lap.

“Relations,” James spoke in that carefully modulated voice, rolling his eyes at Jon’s deer in the headlight’s expression. Trip often used the same gesture, without Archer feeling his mind had been dissected and found wanting. “Tucker’s usually have large families, at least four kids. Dad’s the eldest with two younger brothers and four older sisters. Grandpa is one of six, all boys. We have over fifteen cousins all attending local schools. Half this town is related, not to mention the county. There’s family from the Keys to the old border with Alabama and Georgia. Marrying around here, you might end up with your cousin, three times removed.”

Swallowing hard, Jon suddenly realised how big this party might be. “Must make dating hard,” Archer managed with a half-hearted smirk.

Snorting, Lizzy shook her head. “That was always Trip’s excuse for not having a steady girlfriend in high school. No wonder he waited. You got a younger brother, Jon?”

“Only child,” Archer responded politely, not sure where this conversation was going. He’d been warned about Lizzy and was beginning to understand Trip’s caution.

“Shame, I can see why my brothers so into you,” Lizzy smirked, only to be cuffed on the head by Trip.

“Cool it Lizzy,” he warned playfully. “Wouldn’t want to scare him away when I’ve waited this long to find him.”

“Hey, if I can scare your boyfriend away that easily,” now the girl turned a harrowing gaze on Jon and he realised Trip wasn’t the only intelligent Tucker in the room, “then he doesn’t deserve you!”

“Elizabeth,” Alice didn’t need to shout. The firm tone was enough. Accompanied by her father’s glare, the girl’s cheeks coloured.

“Jon,” Charlie Tucker spoke into the gathering silence, a sudden sigh escaping his lips, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to get use to this if you have any intention of sticking around. Half the family can’t keep their thoughts in their head, the other half sits back, adding biting commentary at the appropriate moments.”

“Wait,” James spoke again, “until you meet the original Charles Tucker. Grandpa Chuck is just like Trip. Both have verbal diarrhoea.”

“Thanks, Jamie,” Trip mocked. To which James just smirked at his brother. “Hey, Mama, you heard from Uncle Bob recently?”

“You listen here young man,” Alice was out of her chair, shaking her finger. A little taken back, Jon wondered what he’d missed. Trip’s Mama’s next words proved she knew her children well. “If you think you’re going to go sneaking off down to the Keys with your boyfriend for most of this week to go scuba diving and cavorting in the sun when you just spent a week in tropical Australia, alone, you got another think coming. I want some time to get to know Jon and we haven’t seen you since your sister’s wedding, nearly eighteen months ago. Now you have someone to keep you in line, I expect at least yearly visits, understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Trip lowered his eyes, suitably chastised.

Jon couldn’t help it. The look of petulance was just too much. Besides, he’d never seen Trip Tucker shut down so easily. The chuckle escaped and once out, it couldn’t be constrained. Charlie Tucker lips curled, in spite of himself, finally joining his son’s significant other.

“He’s a hand full,” Charlie commented, finally able to draw a breath.

“Last week,” Jon responded mockingly, sharing the sarcastic wit, “Trip dumped me for some stunning blond with a hoverbike.”

“You just had to bring that up,” Trip stated moodily, “didn’t you. Well, as I recall, you were the one goading me into accepting Penny’s offer.”

“This,” Lizzy lent over her brother, “I have to hear. It’s just like that time he was dating Sally Marsden. She got so jealous every time Trip looked or spoke to another girl.”

“Oh, no you don’t Lizzy,” Trip broke in, holding Jon and his sister from each other, “and don’t you dare, Jonny. This is not open season on Trip stories.”

“Wanna bet,” Lizzy goaded, before launching into her version of Sally’s possessiveness.

Smirking, Archer rather thought it wouldn’t take that much practice to get use to this family thing, so long as the attention was focused elsewhere. _However_ , Jon considered an hour, and several stories later, _it might take a heck of a lot to squash my jealous streak. It seems Trip’s always attracted people to himself. I’m going to have to live with that fact, if I want him in my life as a permeant fixture. Somehow, I don’t even think a wedding ring on his finger would change the way others see him. He just has this natural charisma and I’m going to have to get use to him extruding it all the damn time. His father’s right, Trip’s exciting, lively, vivacious and one hell of a handful._


	12. Fragile  Friday 3rd March 2141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing can be perfect all the time. Trip and Jon are in for some interesting time’s ahead. Nothing too angsty, but the course of true love never did run smooth.

“Did you have to goad them like that?” Trip lent over and demanded in a whisper, his blue eyes bordering on irritated.

The group had been telling stories for an hour and a half before Vicky and Rory O’Shea made an appearance in the Tucker’s living room. The obligatory introductions and polite but inconsequential conversation followed. The type that happened when people attempting to take a likeness of each other met for the first time. Vicky turned out to be an equal mix of her parents. Long reddish blond hair, her colouring complemented Irish society. Green eyes, tall but slim, with a wicked sense of humour, she could tease with the rest of the Tucker clan, while holding back if required. Rory matched her in personality and the love between husband and wife flowed easily.

“What,” Jon asked calmly, watching his boyfriends exasperated body language and realising Trip had come to the end of his ability to sit still, “would you have me do?”

“I don’t know,” Trip rolled his eyes, ensuring his younger sister’s attention was elsewhere, namely teasing Vicky about getting out of the afternoon’s entertainment at his expense. “Come on, we got a little over an hour before dinner. Now Vicky and Rory are back, I say we let my family torment them for a while. I need to run off some steam after that pick on Trip session. If you think you can keep up, I’ll show you the beach. It’s three blocks from here.”

Nodding his agreement, Trip extracted them easily, explaining that even on vacation, Starfleet officers had to keep up their exercise regime to remain in shape. “Just make sure your home in time for dinner,” Alice stipulated with a warning glare. She knew her eldest son too well. Trip had never been able to sit still for any length of time. From the moment he learnt to crawl, the child had been off exploring his surroundings, as far as those chubby little hands and knees would take him. Surprised he’d managed to remain still long, it seemed Jonathan Archer’s presence might prove a moderating influence. “You know we start at six and not a minute later.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Trip responded, grabbing Jon’s hand and pulling him along in his wake. Charging up to their room, the pair changed quickly before they were out the door. It wasn’t until they settled into a comfortable jog along the seafront running track that Tucker spoke again.

“So?” The single word encompassed an entire conversation with a meaningful glance.

“Meeting your family went better than I expected,” Jon agreed, allowing a pleased expression to settle on his features.

Commander Jonathan Archer found he enjoyed the company of Vicky and Rory O’Shea the moment they walked into the room and felt they could form a good friendship with exposure. Trip hadn’t told him anything about the couple, so Jon had been surprised to find his lover’s brother-in-law was six years older than his wife, meaning Rory and Jon were the same age. Dr. O’Shea had another commonality; he was a Major in the United Earth Military Forces, an equivalent rank to Archer. After graduating Medical school, Rory had been forced to serve on an Earth-Mars transport as their Chief Medical Officer. The men had a lot in common.

Grinning, Trip announced, “only because you got all those stories about me. Mama’s going to corner you tonight. There’s no way you can get out of it.”

“Your Mama’s proud of you, Trip,” Jon stated. Forcing his feet to leave the sealed path, Archer wanted to feel the salty breeze on his face and hear the crunch of golden sand under his runners. Nearing the hard, waterlogged surface at edge of the ocean, he didn’t realise how much he needed to move after sitting for so long. Pouring on the speed, Tucker matched his pace easily.

“You know there’s a reason I haven’t been home in almost three years.” More than a kilometre along the slightly curving bay, Trip finally broke the comfortable silence. A slight frown of confusion clouded his features. “I love them, I really do, but they can be a little too proud sometimes.”

“Like today?” Jon asked, keeping his tone light. This conversation, hell, the whole situation was bringing up memories Archer would rather forget.

If only his family had been more like the Tucker’s, Jon wondered if his childhood would have been a little less lonely and maybe he wouldn’t have turned out quite so focused and unsociable. His father continued to work at Cornell University after receiving his doctorate. Meeting and marrying Sally Smyth, they’d tried for years before finally welcoming a son into their family. By then, Dr. Archer, in conjunction with the UESPA, spent all his time designing a new warp engine to comply with Vulcan ideology. Jon turned seven when the Complex opened in San Francisco as part of the newly formed Starfleet. The Archer’s were one of the first families to move to California. A few months later, Henry Archer had been diagnosed with Clarkes disease. It changed everything. The next four years became increasingly difficult as Henry faded from the vital, intelligent engineer to a husk of his former self. After his father passed, Jon’s mother wanted to return to her home town and restart her shattered life. Archer managed to convince his mother to wait, until he’d finished school and could take up his scholarship to college. She’d left the day he moved into the dorms at Stanford and was killed in an accident three years later. He’d been alone ever since.

“Just be thankfully you still have parents to give you such praise,” Archer reminded Trip, “then you might recall today more fondly.”

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Trip sounded truly downcast. “I know you didn’t have the best childhood. Great grandpa Cyrus only died a few years back, just shy of one hundred and ten. We Tucker’s live to a ripe old age and usually reproduce early. It’s nothing to have four or five generations alive at the same time. It’s hard to imagine having no family around, even if they drive me mad with all their questions and poking into my life.”

Shaking his head at Trip’s forlorn tone, Archer slowed, before stopping. Looking out at the waves crashing on the beach and breaking around their ankles, he didn’t really feel tired, even though he should. They’d left Cairns at 0430, arriving a little after two in the afternoon local time due to the difference between locations half a planet apart. Last night, their last together in a romantic setting, Jon found and treated Trip to an intimate dinner on a sailing boat. They’d returned to the hotel to make love and prepare for the next week of their R and R. Jon’s stomach was telling him it was closer to breakfast than dinner, but he supposed he should be used to such changes. His life was bound to be in a constant state of upheaval with is promotion.

 _Then,_ Archer reminded himself, _there’s Trip. Somehow, I know life with him is never going to be completely smooth sailing. If there’s anyone who can get into trouble without trying, it’s going to be my boyfriend. Living together is going to be a challenge, but worth it._

“This,” Archer pointed to the scene before him, watching Trip out of the corner of his eye, “must have been an amazing place to grow up.”

“Couldn’t imagine living anywhere else,” Trip smiled, “as a kid. I had everything I ever wanted. Mama and Daddy always had jobs, a good income, gave us the best they could, but most importantly love and discipline. They encouraged us to be whatever we wanted, to try new things. I love coming home, I really do.”

“I sense a but,” Jon encouraged.

“I’m ready to move on, Jonny,” Trip confessed. “I’m ready to take the next step in my life, just like my big sister has. You know I’d advanced two years of classes by the time I started high school, so Vicky and I were in the same year as freshman and a semester as sophomores. She hated competing with her younger brother for honours in every class, so she worked her butt off to complete her sophomore and junior requirements in the same year and get a grade ahead of me. She wanted to live and study somewhere in old Europe. I can’t remember a time she didn’t want to be a doctor. I think she met Rory before making her decision about going to Trinity. He’s the only reason she chose Ireland, not that’s she’s ever told me.”

“It seems to have worked out,” Jon urged when Trip stopped speaking, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

“I think she’s pregnant,” Trip laughed, watching the shocked expression cover Archer’s features. “Hell, Jon, they been married a while now and Vicky’s just about finished her medical degree. She’ll be a doctor by June, that’s only four months away. I bet she’ll wait until Sunday morning at breakfast to break the news so as not to take away from my party tomorrow night. She’s always been like that, caring and considerate of other people feelings.”

“You Tucker’s really do reproduce early,” Jon tried to keep the astonishment out of his tone. “You’re sister’s only two years older than you.”

“Yep,” Trip snickered, watching the cogs turn in Archer’s mind. “Hell, Jon, I don’t expect to follow after the rest of my family. I’ve always done things in my own time and way.”

“I got that,” Archer noted, hiding his reaction, “from some of those stories you didn’t want me to hear.”

“I guess everything that’s happened over the last few months got me thinking about my future,” Trip paused, turning to face the man at his side. Bright blue eyes wide, as if he couldn’t quite believe his good luck. “I mean, I always knew what I wanted and nothing’s changed. I am going to be on that first Starship out of this solar system, exploring the universe and chief of its warp 5 engine room. I guess I never thought I’d be doing it with someone at my side.”

“Me either, Trip,” Jon agreed, overcome with emotion. “I’m not sure it’s going to make the journey any easier, being together.”

“You really want me to move in?” Tucker asked, his blue eyes piercing his lover’s. “You never really asked, and after last week, I just sort of assumed we’d live together once we got back to the San Francisco. Even with both of us working at the Complex, we’re not going to have much time together.”

“Yes,” the word escaped more like a prayer, “I want you with me, Trip. I did ask, last night, but you fell asleep.”

“You’ve lived with someone before,” Tip stated, not entirely sure where this conversation was going or what he wanted out of it, but knowing it was important.

“Yes,” Jon watched the emotions crossing those mobile features and wondered where they tended. Something significant played behind those intelligent eyes. Something he couldn’t quite catch.

“I’ve never really lived by myself,” Tucker confessed. “First, I was at home, then staying with Dr. Sying and her family. Since starting officer training, it’s been Starfleet quarters. I guess I never really considered the responsibility of living on my own, let alone sharing with someone else. Six weeks with Pieter and Lee was more a lifestyle study. Besides, I was so busy finishing up my thesis and preparing for the oral defence, they didn’t make me pull my weight.”

“You’re worried about living with me?” Archer attempted to drill down into Trip’s fears.

“Yes and no,” Trip sighed, attempting to understand the irrational panic taking up residence in the pit of his stomach. “I guess I’m more worried that I can’t do this on my own, that your right and we’re moving to fast. God, now I sound like the Vulcan’s. I’ve been offered an apartment in your building, on a lower level befitting my junior rank now I’m officially on Captain Jefferies engineering team.”

“Trip,” Jon placed a hand on either shoulder and turned Tucker to face him. “This has to be your decision. Yes, I’ve lived with a man before. I moved into Carl’s place six weeks after we met. I thought, at the time, we’d be together for ever. When I got promoted and posted to a space assignment, we decided to go our separate ways. It was easy, being his place and having a ready-made birth on _Stargazer_. Maybe too easy and I didn’t fight hard enough. Before that, I had a boyfriend who didn’t want to move in, ever, as it turned out, which ended the relationship pretty quickly. Point is, I’m not bringing up my past romantic entanglements to make you feel inadequate or force a decision, I’m trying to tell you I’m good either way. You can take your own apartment and we’ll date, or live with me. I’ll support whatever you need to do. I don’t want to rush this, Trip, but I’m not going to give up just because you’re getting cold feet.”

“What if,” he sounded so young and suddenly unsure to his own ears, “I want both?”

Jonathan shot Tucker a confused expression. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Trip.”

“I’m thinking of taking the apartment officially but staying with you at night,” Trip admitted. “That way I’d have my own space, if I needed it.”

“No,” Jon stated emphatically, “that’s a fatal choice, and you know it. Either you’re in or out of this relationship, Trip, not sitting on the fence just in case. Either your committed to us, or you’re not.” Examining the younger man, Archer asked, “what are you really afraid of? What’s changed in the last few hours? Is it something that’s happened sitting in your parent’s lounge room? One of those stories that hit a little too close to home?”

“Reality’s set in,” Trucker confessed. “This, this thing between us, it’s more than I expected, better but so intense. I’m suddenly questioning everything. What happens when we have our first fight, or I’m posted to a ship and you’re not, or the damn Vulcan’s get me so worked up, I come home ready to shoot my mouth off and you don’t what to hear it?”

“We do what any couple in a relationship do,” Jon finally understood, “we work it out.”

“And if we can’t?” Trip asked.

Smiling, Archer finally got it. “Not all relationships are meant to last a lifetime, Trip. Some last a while, others fail pretty quickly and if you’re really lucky, and work at it, they succeed. The question you have to ask yourself, is if you’re more afraid of failing than accepting what you stand gain?”

“I’ve never failed at anything,” sighing, he’d finally admitted his greatest fear. “I’m terrified I’ll screw this up and I don’t want to. It means too much to me already.”

“Then,” Jon pulled his boyfriend into a hug, laying a kiss on his forehead, “we’ll work it out, one step at a time, one issue at a time.” Giving Tucker time for his words to sink in, Archer finally pulled away. “We’d better get back to your parent’s, before they send out a search party. Your mother’s not a woman I’d want to cross, ever.”

“Actually,” Trip managed to look chagrined, “it’s my daddy you need to watch out for. He might look like the silent type, but he can be deadly. Never spared the rod to spoil the child.”

“He hit you?” Jon sounded shocked.

“Never needed to,” Trip stated with a curious expression. “The look of disappointment in his eyes was enough. None of us, including Lizzy, can stand it when his lids narrow just a little and those green all-seeing eyes make you feel like the lowest form of life in the galaxy.”

Nodding, the Commander in Archer realised he’d miss read Trip father completely. _While Mrs. Tucker…Mama extrudes strength, Mr. Tucker is a solid tower that holds up the entire family. He would be the type of Admiral who listened to everyone opinion, then made up his mind and expected you to follow orders without question. The Vulcan’s wouldn’t find an easy opponent in Charles Tucker II. Then again_ , Jon realised, _they don’t in Charles Tucker III. Maybe there’s more of Charlie in Trip than he lets on. While he looks like his mother, even acts like her on the outside, there are parts of Trip he keeps well hidden, just like his father._

“Jon,” Trip observed at the older man, mesmerised by the changing expressions crossing his face. Brushing his lips over Archers, he sighed. It was time to put all his hopes and dreams on the line. “I’ll send Starfleet a decline notice for the apartment and list you place as my permanent address from next Monday. I guess we’re just going to have to get use to each other, real fast.”

“I know I said slowly,” Jon winked, “but I really think we’re way past that. You’re a pushy individual Trip Tucker, but I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Smirking, Trip set off at a rapid pace. “Come on, Old man,” he teased over his shoulder, “we got time to make up before dinner, if you move your butt.”

“Old man,” Jon scoffed, thinking that the shower in the upstairs bathroom might hold two. “First one back gets to choose, and I intend to be on top.”

“Not a chance in hell,” Tucker increased his speed, his heart lighter than it had ever been with the knowledge this might just work out the way Trip envisaged.


	13. Dinner: Friday 3rd March 2141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have had to go and do some major research for several knit picky points. Wading my way through Star Trek lore, especially with respect to the Eugenics War and WWIII, leading to the United Earth Government, UESPA, Starfleet and then combining this with the life of Zefram Cochrane and Henry Archer was challenging to say the least. All this, I might add, to place Trip’s family history in context for the grand total of one or two paragraphs. Blame my OCD. I’ll have a family tree of sorts at the end of the chapter to help clear things up, as well as a timeline for Jon, Trip and general Star Trek lore. It’s the only way I can keep it all straight in my head.

Skidding into the house at quarter to six, Alice Tucker held her nose and indicated the malodorous pair should make short work of cleaning up before coming down stairs to join the crowd currently in the kitchen. Watching the obvious lovers as they bantered all the way up the stairs, the older woman shook her head and hid her secret smile. Tonight, she and Charlie would have to talk about this relationship. It might her son’s first, and, if she didn’t miss her guess, Trip’s last.

“Shame,” Trip stated, looking longingly at the stall, before flicking his eyes back to his Jonny. Pushing his naked boyfriend under the cascading water, Tucker grinned wolfishly and prepared to watch the hurried show, understanding that if he joined Archer, they’d never leave the bathroom in time to make dinner.

The run and chat cleared out the last of Trip’s well-hidden fears. Being back with his family often did that to him, brought out the doubts he usually kept buried. While others might see Charles Tucker III as intelligent, charming and a gentleman, it was par for the course in his household. Expected behaviour.

Trip’s Mama had a very successful architectural business, designing multistorey dwellings for the cities still being calved from previously unliveable radiation zones. The last remnants of WWIII were finally being terraformed and becoming functional again, thanks to the Company Grandpa Chuck established with Great Grandpa Cyrus more than seventy years ago. Charles Tucker II, like his father, father before him and son, was an engineer, only his specialty was hydrology. He’d been instrumental in designing and building self-sustaining hydropower plants that were also ecofriendly and didn’t divert major water courses. Of course, he’d gone into the family business, adding his own sub-speciality to the massive Tucker Technical Industries Group. Trip Tucker might have been the youngest person in his family to graduate college and the only one who’d bothered to go all the way to become Dr. Tucker, but he was by no means unique. Nor was his career in Starfleet a stumbling block to one day joining the family business, adding Warp technology to their repertoire.

Sometimes the expectations grated. Especially when Trip got out into the wider community and realised not many people had such accomplished families. That they weren’t always competing, in a nice way, with their siblings, cousins and anyone else bearing the Tucker name. It was part of the reason Charles Tucker III chose to go to MIT. Several thousand kilometres was supposed to prove Trip could forge his own reputation and survive independently. Instead, he’d finished up living with Dr. Sying and her family. It had all be just too damn easy and too much like home.

Then he’d come up against something he just didn’t understand in the form of Lt. Commander Jonathan Archer and his first real attraction to another human being. From the first moment, Archer challenged him in every way and left Trip reeling. Hell, he’d never even bothered to ask Jon about his family, until it came up today. Trip assumed there would be a long list of Archer’s with qualifications and awards to match considering the reputation of Henry Archer. Finding out Jonny was alone came as a shock and made Trip really consider the ramifications of a relationship with the man. Their backgrounds were so different that there was bound to be issues sooner rather than later. As they sat, listening to his sister and Mama tell stories about his childhood, Trip watched the man at his side. Jonny was enthralled while Tucker’s mind ruminated in the background. Eventually he’d had to get out, to pace, to think, but mostly, to talk to Jon about his fears as they began to form.

“We’re got all week,” Jon reminded, stepping out from the water, and forcing Tucker to take his turn. He loved watching Trip, the mobile expressions that transformed his features, the way the blue of his eyes changed tone and shade with is thoughts. Archer observed his lover’s easy movements, soaping his body and allowing the drops to sluice way the bubbles, while he pulled on a new set of clothing. “Besides, your parents will be at work and your siblings at school during the week. I’m sure we can find more than one opportunity to save water together.”

“I’ll keep you to that, even if we end up using more than our fair share,” Trip smirked, snapping off the tap and stepping out, only to be wrapped in a towel and Archer’s embrace. “Don’t even think about it, Jonny, or we will be late for dinner, and I’m not taking my Daddy’s wrath for fooling around and keeping him from his evening meal. Somethings just ain’t worth it.”

“Spoil sport,” Jon sighed theatrically. “I guess we’ll just have to save it for later tonight.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Trip teased. “Just remember, I got in the front door first.”

* * *

“Lizzy said you’re an only child,” Major Rory O’Shea, opened the conversation the moment Jon and Trip entered the dining room. He’d lay in wait, offering a sly smile to his fellow officer. Table set for twelve, obviously Uncle Bob and Grandpa Chuck would join the family for the evening meal. Commander Archer felt suitably warned.

“Yes,” Jon answered carefully, wondering if Rory sought an ally. They were the odd men out. Even James and Lizzy’s partners seemed more at ease with the older Tucker’s, most probably though constant exposure.

“It might sound strange,” the Irishman offered, easily cutting Archer from the crowd and into a quiet corner, “but I believe we might have a lot in common. Besides, my wife put me up to this. One military man to another.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jon noticed Trip getting two beers from the stasis unit. Before he could move in Archer’s direction, Vicky intercepted her brother, engaging him in conversation. Smirking, the Commander’s expression appreciated the O’Shea’s manipulation. “Divide and conquer,” Jon chuckled.

“More like save the poor men in their lives from a pre-dinner grilling,” Rory agreed. “I’ve known Vicky since she was sixteen. Don’t give me that look, Commander, because I got one just like it. Works well on junior officers, but not those of the same rank. Besides, it’s not what you think.” Fielding Archer’s raised eyebrow, Rory chuckled. “Vicky was learning Gaelic at high school. She came on an exchange program, to my cousin’s house in the west country where the Irish still speak and write in the native tongue. Stayed the entire summer. I was just about finished Med School, preparing for my obligatory space posting and she was full of a million questions. Two years later, she shows up at Trinity and before I know it, we’re dating, then married.”

“There might be a similarity,” Jon agreed cautiously, his eyes flicking towards Trip and Vicky, who were now deep in conversation, “or two between them.”

“I’ve only met Trip four or five times,” Rory stated. “He’s every bit as determined as my wife, and just an insecure in many ways. I can’t imagine growing up in a family like this.”

At Jon confused expression, Rory quickly explained just how wealthy, connected and influential Trip immediate family were in Panama City, and his extended family in the old state of Florida. They had, after all, helped to rebuild the local infrastructure and economy. “I had no idea,” Archer confessed. “Trip hasn’t said anything.”

“He won’t and the Tucker’s will endeavour to keep it that way,” the Irishman stated. “Not one of them has an IQ less than brilliant, even Lizzy although, to borrow one of your American saying, she can be a real pain in the arse.”

“If you’ve got time tomorrow,” Jon noticed Mama Tucker approaching their hiding spot and had to get the offer out, “before the party, I wouldn’t mind a run along the beach.”

“O600, Commander,” Major O’Shea stated. “Trust me, none of them will be up after the amount of food and drinks they put away tonight. Tomorrows going to be worse.”

“Aye, Sir,” Jon felt the corners of his lips curl upwards.

“Let’s get to the table before Alice tries to seats us either side of her,” Rory lead the way, pretending not to see his mother-in-law bustling toward them. “And may I suggest, sit as far away from Grandpa Chuck as possible. He’ll grill you the first chance he gets. Uncle Bob, he’s good value, funny too. Just ask about the summers Trip spent with him at the marina. Your boyfriend will enjoy reminiscing. I understand, Bob’s left the Marina and house to Trip in his will.”

Shaking his head, Jonathan took Rory’s advice.

“I’m glad you asked,” Bob roared, unable to keep his voice lower than a shout and drowning out any other conversation at the table. Catfish on everyone’s plate, along with coleslaw, mashed potato, corn, peas and corn pon, Archer had been told it was also known as Jonny cake, which caused some good natured teasing. Trip on one side, Major O’Shea on the other, they sat opposite Old Uncle Bob. He was actually Grandpa Chuck’s youngest brother and only ten years older than his nephew, Charles Tucker II. He also happened to be the only Tucker never to marry or beget offspring in several generations and was seen as a little eccentric. “I’m sure Alice only put him on a transport to get the lad out of her hair for the summer. He was only seven the first time Trip came down to the Keys. Pulled every dang motor in the marina apart within hours of arriving. Never thought I’d get them back together. Took most of the first month to teach him to tackle one job at a time. Boy’s got a real talent for engines.”

“Uncle Bob taught me to dive,” Trip smiled, his eyes changing hue with delight. “One day we’ll get down there and I’ll introduce you to Waldo?”

“I though Waldo lived on the Great Barrier Reef?” Jon’s confusion made Trip and Bob laugh.

“No,” Uncle Bob then launched into the first of his stories, about an old and ornery two-meter-long electric eel. Within a few minutes, everyone around the table was chuckling. The stories were told in such a way as to be funny, never pointing fun at anyone, usually with some moral attached and showing Trip in the best light possible. It was obvious Bob loved Trip like the son he’d never had.

“It took me a while to work it out,” Archer stated, curled up around his younger lover when they’d finally been able to retire. Thankfully, only one photo album had emerged from storage. Uncle Bob managed to keep them all at the dining room table for several hours and consuming more drinks that strictly necessary, increasing the cheerfully informal atmosphere in the room. The fact Vicky had refused anything but water instantly captured Alice Tucker’s attention and she’d been distracted for the rest of the night. Thanks to Trip’s insight, Jon had a good idea what preoccupied Mama’s mind, making his escape with the excuse of being a long day easier to accept.

“Work what out?” Trip asked, intrigued. It’d been a very emotional day on so many levels. Tomorrow was going to be worse, with his celebration lasting well into the early hours of the following morning.

“Why your family make you feel so inadequate,” Jon stated easily, putting some space between himself and Trip, before turning the younger man onto his back so Archer could see his response. “Rory’s information and Uncle Bob’s stories helped. Is that why you haven’t been home in three years?”

“I guess,” Trip confessed. “It’s more than that. Moving in with you is a big step, bigger than I’ve ever taken before, even bigger than moving to MIT and choosing a career in Starfleet. As I said earlier, I don’t like to fail, especially at things I’ve never tried before. I’ve never been in a real relationship, had a boyfriend, or girlfriend for that matter. And Sally Marsden doesn’t count because I lost my virginity to her, not my heart, although my ego was bruised for a few weeks. Being responsible for someone else’s happiness, that scares the hell out of me.”

“I got that, Trip,” Jon sighed, putting his arms around his lover and pulling his head onto his shoulder. “We won’t fail, if we’re honest with each other and work at it. There are going to be times where we can’t keep our hand off each other. Times when one of us needs space or attention and it’s not going to be possible for the other to accommodate that need. It’s not going to be easy, and there are going to be times we fight over something we won’t even remember a week later.”

“I got that,” he deliberately used the same words with a mocking tone. “But the making up will be fun.”

“Smart arse,” Jon kissed Trip’s temple before chuckling.

“Yep,” Tucker agreed, moving to get himself more comfortable, “you’d better believe it.”

“Go to sleep,” Jon snorted, “we’ve got a big day ahead and I have to be up by 0600 to go running with your brother-in-law. Before you ask, no you can’t join us. Secret men’s business.”

“What did you and Rory talk about?” Trip asked, intrigued.

“Your family,” Jon responded, “more specifically their position in society. As I said, I understand more of the undercurrents I only felt this afternoon and why you feel the way you do. It must have been hard, growing up with all those unspoken expectations.”

“Nope,” Trip tone changed to playful. “It was just normal, almost natural. I didn’t even realise that Tucker’s were different until MIT, and even then Dr. Sying and her family weren’t all that dissimilar.”

“Officer Training must have been a wakeup call,” Jon guessed.

Snorting, the younger man chuckled. “Nope, the studying bored me to tears. Doing what I’m told has always been difficult. I guess meeting Captain Layton and being forced to study all that protocol and procedure was a good thing, in hind sight. You know, I met this crusty old Captain while I was on Earth Orbital. He made taking orders sound easy. “Son,” he said, when a superior officer reamed me out, not that the Commander knew what the hell he was talking about. “Just pretend anyone with more silver than you is your papa and treat ‘m with the same level respect, even if they are speaking shit”. I kid you not,” Trip stated when Jon made a noise that demonstrated his disbelief and amusement. “It made me realised two things. There are a lot of idols in Starfleet and I have to say ‘Yes, Sir’ to them, while finding a rule to ignore their orders.”

“That’s not how it works, Trip,” Jon couldn’t hide is amusement.

“If you were the Captain, and came into my engine room,” Trip stated with feeling, “trying to tell me what to do, I’d politely tell you to stick your nose where it’s needed, on the bridge.”

“Why,” Jon pictured just that scenario, “can I believe that. You’re going to be a pain in the arse to live with, given that attitude.”

“I’m not a pain in the arse,” Trip responded, “but I wouldn’t mind given you one if you’re willing to accommodate me.”

“Always seeking attention,” Jon whispered huskily, his hand moving from Trip’s hip and finding part of his anatomy rising to the occasion.

“Yep. Or at least part of me is. It’s all your fault, Jonny, introducing me to something new. Now I just have to keep exploring, until I’ve learnt all this is to know.” Lifting his head, Trip’s lips met Jon’s in a warm but demanding kiss. A week in Cairns meant Tucker had mastered the basics and no longer needed his lover’s instructions to initiate their nocturnal activities. He had some ideas he wanted to try from those porn vids Pieter suggested he watch, the realistic ones. Taking the initiative, Jonathan Archer gave way to his young lover, coming to realisation his boyfriend had quite an imagination, not to mention the innate skill to achieve his goals.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Great Grandpa Cyrus: 2029-2137 – engineer – radiation recollimation.
> 
> Grandpa Chuck (Charles Tucker): Born 2055 – engineer – terraforming. Eldest of six boys.
> 
> Great Uncle Bob: 2078 – engineer – marine. Youngest of Great Grandpa Cyrus’s boys. Owns a marina in the Keys, idea from AgtSpooky’s story, beneath the waves. On AO3, I suggest you read it. Eccentric, unmarried and childless.
> 
> Charles ‘Charlie’ Tucker II: 2088 – engineer – hydrology. Fifth of seven children, four elder sisters, two younger brothers.
> 
> Charles ‘Trip’ Tucker III: Feb 2121 – engineer – warp theory. Second of four children.


	14. Tucker Clan: Saturday 4th March 2141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have made significant changes to this chapter thanks the a somewhat interesting review over at FFnet, which I’ve answered as a review myself. I believe its time to take on any misconceptions as to the type of universe Gene Rodenberry envisaged for Star Trek. Several characters refer to darker events in Human history. Events that have been overcome because of the Human spirit, courage and tenacity.
> 
> As an asexual woman, it is my right not to be judged for my sexuality, or lack of one, my beliefs, my religion, my lifestyle or my creative pursuits. Personally, I do not support gay marriage, or marriage at all. Like Seven of Nine, I see it as an outdated concept of ownership. But this is my view. I have many very happily married friends, and I wouldn’t take that pleasure from them. Just as I have many friends in same sex relationships, both male and female. By the way, many have children, as do I, though a technological advancement called IVF. The Human race will continue, even if some of us are outside the “Norm” as judged by a misguided few.
> 
> Funnily enough, its increased the readership, as conflict and differing opinions often do. I hope this work engages peoples thinking, brings out their morality and ethics, but mostly, might just give a different point of view. That is how we changed the scaffolding within our minds, learn and become more than we were before a new experience.

From the moment Jon and Trip came down stairs, it seemed they were needed somewhere to do something. The Tucker’s, by virtue of their numbers, were well known in their community and everyone was willing to go the extra length to help make Trip’s celebration magical. A local dance studio, no doubt owned by a relation, had donated the venue. It was situated within walking distance from the Tucker’s beachside home and faced out onto the pristine sea front of Panama City Beach.

A hoard of family came to help Alice, Vicky and Lizzy decorate. The women gathered in the main room, blue and red embellishments covering most of the floor, relegating the men to manual labour. Homemade food and drinks started to arrive early and just kept coming, straining the small kitchen area until Uncle Bob and Grandpa Charlie arrived with an industrial sized stasis unit. Jon watched the organised chaos, wondering just how many people’s names he was expected to remember and how many more he’d be forced to meet as the day wore on. It seemed he’d been introduced well over two dozen in the hours they’d been toiling.

Realising he hadn’t seen Trip in a while, Jon went on a mission. Lunch, like all meals in the Tucker household, was a community event. A table had been set up for the workers. Archer grabbed a plate and filled it for them to share. He had every intention of locating his lost lover before taking a well-earned break while soaking up the sea breeze and warm sand. It seemed Grandpa Chuck had beaten him by managing to corner his grandson. Remaining hidden, Jonathan Archer despised himself for listening in on the conversation.

“Grandpa,” Trip rolled his eyes at the octogenarian, in obvious exasperation. He knew what the older and protective man wanted, a word without Jon around. Chuck Tucker had never held his punches, nor is moralistic views.

“Well?” He demanded, tapping his foot and hands on hips.

Sighing, there was no way Trip could get past his grandfather without being rude. “Well, what.”

“You brought a man home,” Chuck stated, “and now you’re sharing a bed with him.”

“That’s because Jon’s my boyfriend, Grandpa,” Trip replied, keeping the conversation light. “It’s normal to have sex with the person you’re dating.”

“You never looked at a man before,” Chuck groused. “What they teaching you at that university? Wouldn’t have happened in my day.”

“Get real,” Trip’s tone became laden with disbelief. “It’s been going on since Adam was a boy. The old European Union, US, UK and Australia have recognised same gender marriage since the beginning of last century, in spite of WWIII and the terrors that occurred afterwards. Hell, Great Grandpa Cyrus fought so I have the freedom to make my own choice. And I have, Grandpa. It’s taken a lot to understand I’m attracted to Jon and do something about it.”

Snorting, Chuck narrowed his blue grey eyes on the unrepentant man.

“I told you last night,” Trip responded in a carefully modulated tone, “I’m moving in with Jonny when we get back to California.”

The grumbled response was just below Archer’s ability to hear, or understand in the thick southern accent. Recalling Rory’s warnings, the Commander continued to stand back, watching and waiting. He’d interrupt only if he though Trip required his help. So far, it seemed like his young lover was giving as good as he got.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Tucker rolled his eyes, “and no, I’m not experimenting with my sexuality. I like girls plenty, had enough of them to know a real deal when I have one. And before you ask, Jonny tried women too. It’s not his scene.”

“So, what happens when you meet a woman,” Chuck asked, “want to get married, settle down, have kids.”

Gently, Trip reached out a hand, placing it on his grandfather’s arm. Even more tenderly, in a soft voice, he answered, “Uncle Bob would understand. I ain’t wired like the rest of you. I’ve always gone my own way. Jon’s my choice, Grandpa. I want you to respect my choice, but more important, I want you to respect my relationship with a man I care about, even if you don’t agree with it.” 

“Well,” Chuck nodded, noticing Archer approaching and stated grumpily, “I’m glad we got that sorted.”

“I hope so,” the sound of Jon’s voice surprised Trip. Placing an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulders, Archer seemed relaxed on the outside. He was anything but, to those who knew him well. “I’m not planning on letting your grandson out of my life without a good reason.”

“See you don’t,” Chuck huffed, blue-grey eyes scrutinising Archer before coming to some kind of conclusion he wasn’t willing to share. “He’s a good catch, if I do say so myself. Although I’d have liked someone a little more his age, who didn’t move so fast.”

“Grandpa,” Trip sounded really exasperated now.

“He’s only protecting you, Trip,” Archer responded good-naturedly, although his hackles had been raised. Jon, however, would continue to be absolutely polite, while watching Chuck’s behaviour towards his lover carefully. “I don’t even remember my grandfather, Sir. I hope you and I will turn out to be friends at least. James tell me you and Trip are like pees in a pod. I look forward to getting to know you better.”

“Awfully polite, ain’t he,” Chuck offered, sarcastically. “You’ll do, I expect. Now, if I look the other way, I’m sure you can escape for an hour or two. You’re Mama’s driving me mad, Trippy. Must be irritating for you young lovers. Go on, get out of here, while the getting good.”

“Trippy,” Jon whispered as they hastily made their escape.

“Only Grandpa gets away with calling me that,” Trip stated gravely. Looking at Jon, he warned, “there will be consequences, if you even consider it.”

“I might take my chances,” Archer teased, looking down at the plate in his hand. “So, what are we going to do with the rest of the afternoon?”

Trip just smirked, grabbed the food before tossing it on the nearest flat surface and took off at a run. Peeling his clothing off, he entered the waves in his underwear. Shaking his head, Jon decided he was only as young as the person he was feeling, or better still, feeling up. With that thought, he followed Trip’s lead, determined to make their time alone count. And maybe, teach his young lover a new trick or two.

* * *

“It’s worth it,” Charlie Tucker sidled up to the man his son had fallen for. He’d discussed the situation in bed with Alice last night, coming to the same conclusions as is wife. They were going to see a lot more of Jonathan Archer. Eyes on the dance floor, Trip and his mama were in the middle of the melee and loving it. Surrounded by more than one hundred and fifty guests, most of whom were family, Jon felt more than a little overwhelmed. “Even if the old heart strings get stretched from time to time. Early in our acquaintance,” green eyes met hazel with an understanding expression, “I had to come to terms with the fact my wife attracted people like flies to a grill at the height of summer. It’s never changed in thirty years. Don’t expect it ever will.”

“I’m starting to understand,” Jon responded with a sigh. It had been a long day already and the party was only half done. Food and drinks continued to flow freely, the music hadn’t stopped and not one person seemed ready to depart.

Clapping the young man on the back, Charlie looked around before chuckling. “Are you really?”

“No,” Archer frowned. “I know James tried to tell me last night, about the size of this family, but, well, it’s a little daunting to see you all in one place at the same time.”

“Heck,” Charlie really laughed now, “I made my wife limit the number to one hundred, when I found out you were coming. I didn’t want to frighten away the first man my son’s brought home. By the time she added a few of Trip’s friends because we missed his twenty first birthday last month, the number bloomed, as I knew it would. This is only about a third of the immediate family in this county, and a few of our closest friends. You don’t want to be at a real Tucker reunion. Last one, I think, was about two thousand bodies crammed into a hall only a little bigger than this one.”

“Am I expected to meet them all?” Jon asked sardonically, watching his challenger carefully. In a similar situation, he’d be cautious on his children’s behalf, especially his relationship shy, eldest son. Grandpa Chuck had already broached the subject earlier in the day, in a more confronting style. Warnings about Trip’s father echoed in Archer’s mind, causing his posture to stiffen.

“That,” Charlie turned serious, “depends on how long you intend to stick around.”

“I wondered when this talk would happen,” Archer stated, his command voice making an appearance. With everything he’d learnt about Trip’s dad, Jon knew he’d have to put that training in diplomacy to good use. Charlie was not a man to be gainsaid or crossed, nor were any of the extensive and intelligent Tucker Clan. “Sir, I was attracted to your son the moment I met him. He was too young, to inexperienced and I thought, straight…”

Interrupted by the man’s snigger, Charlie Tucker took a moment to sober. “Trip’s outgoing personality hides a multitude of sins, especially his soft heart. My wife and I have always known he’d end up with a man, when he finally found one he’d let in and lead him down that path. My son just had to work that out for himself.”

“You knew?” Jon couldn’t keep the shock from his tone.

“Yep,” Charlie responded, his eyes shining with amusement. “He never needed to try with the girls, it was all just a bit too easy for him, just like his school work and any sport he attempted. They flocked over Trip from the time he was a little kid. The boys, that was a whole different matter. He couldn’t use that cheeky grin to get his own way with them. Once they got to know him, understood he wasn’t quite what they thought, Trip made friends easily. Not that he gave out any real vibes about his sexuality, he just kind of didn’t need to try at anything he did to be really good and it frustrated the other kids. There was this boy, on the baseball team during middle school, Timmy Schmitz. He was sweet on Trip and my son was completely oblivious about his best friends’ intentions, still believing he was attracted to women. Trip broke poor Timmy’s heart and never even knew.”

“I’d say there’s more chance of Trip breaking my heart unintentionally than the other way around,” Jon stated emphatically, his eyes capturing his young lover currently dancing with his mother.

“I’m not so sure of that, Son,” Charlie’s glance became hard and assessing. “If you dig, and you’re going to have to if you want to know the real person under that smile he shows the rest of the world, is a heart of pure gold.”

“I have every intention of taking care of him, Sir,” Jon confessed, “for as long has he’ll have me.”

“I know you do,” Charlie responded, returning to a mood of easy comradery. “You wouldn’t have gotten in the door if I’d thought otherwise, but I’m sure Trip’s told you that already. Let me give you a little advice, Son. Let Trip know your jealous occasionally. Makes life interesting, especially in the bedroom. I speak from personal experience. Oh,” pausing, the older man added with a knowing smile and a hearty clap on the shoulder, “you have my permission for something more permanent. Just wait a couple of years before you make it official. And, let Trip think he’s cornered you into it. He might seem easy going, but he has a stubborn streak as wide as the old state of Texas if he gets a bee in his bonnet about something. If he think’s marriage is his idea, believe me, your life will be much easier.”

With that, Charlie Tucker walked away leaving a somewhat speechless Jonathan Archer in his wake. Making his way through the crowd, Charlie tapped his son on the shoulder. Trip immediately gave way to his father. Sighing, Jon knew the older man was laying down a challenge. While he didn’t really dance, this was a party to celebrate Trip’s doctorate, and, apparently, a birthday he’d managed to miss.

 _In for a penny, in for a pound_ , Jon used the old saying which his mother loved. _Why do I get the impression that Trip will know exactly when my birthday is? His intelligence is obviously emotional as well as everything else. I’m going to have to be on my toes just to keep with him. I guess the challenge might be half the attraction. I’ve never met anyone like Trip before._

“Where do you think you’re going,” Jon whispered into Trip’s ear as he moved to the edge of the dance floor.

“Coming to you,” Tucker answered, well aware Jon’s personality was more sedate than his own. He’d guessed Archer was as fond of dancing as big families.

“I think it’s time we tripped the light fantastic,” Jon smirked at the joke, turning them back towards the waiting crowd.

“You’ll get your chance to do that later,” Trip responded happily. “Right now, I need your arms around me.”

“Your wish is my command,” Archer pulled Tucker into his embrace. Their bodies a hair width apart, both men were aware of how much they were enjoying the close contact on the packed dance floor. “I think,” he leant in, shouting into Trip’s ear to be heard over the suddenly pulsing music, “I could get used to this.”

“Stick with me, Darlin, and I’ll teach you how to live on the edge,” Tucker got that wickedly naughty twinkle in his eye. Before Jon could guess at his lover’s intention, hands made their way down to his arse, cupping Archer and hauling their bodies closer. The intended effect was immediate as the minute space between them no longer existed.

“Older,” Jon lowered his voice, moving his lips nearer to Trip’s ear. “Wiser,” he allowed his exhaled breath to breeze over that delicate organ. “And more tolerance,” Archer finished, lightening his touch as he rubbed the pads of his fingers in small circles at the nape of his lover’s neck. His other arm firmly around Tucker’s waist. “Patience, Trip. We have all night.”

Sighing, Charles Tucker III melted into his boyfriend. That particular move, using such a delicate touch, got to him in away nothing ever had. Trip had a feeling Jon would use the gesture whenever he wanted to distract him or have his own way. _Hell, if he continues to fondle me like that, in public, I’m going to embarrass myself. I’ve never had anyone turn me on faster. I got to get us out of here._

As if reading Trip’s mind, Jon once again whispered into his ear. “Not a chance. You made me wait hours on that transport between Alice and Cairns. Turnabout’s fair play.”

“Jon,” Trip had to swallow several times to make his mouth moist enough to speak. He didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before Archer’s lips were over his.

Softly, Jon made the kiss mild enough for a public display, yet full of the emotions they were both experiencing. His hand now in Tucker’s hair, Archer guided the blond head to his shoulder. “I’ll take care of your little problem, Trip, once we get back to our room.”

“Little,” Trip tried for upset. It came out as more of a contented sigh.

* * *

“Why didn’t you tell me I missed your birthday?” Jon asked. Spooned together in the small hours of morning, they’d made love, quietly, so as not to wake the rest of the household after Trip’s celebration.

“Couldn’t,” he laced his fingers with Archer’s. Moving his head so he could read Jon’s expressions, Trip explained. “You were somewhere between Jupiter and Mars on your final run before meeting me in Alice, and I’d been ordered not to contact you. Besides, we were just friends and it didn’t seem important at the time.”

“Twenty-one,” Jon levered himself up onto an elbow to get a better view of his lover, “it’s still a big event, if I read your father’s tone correctly when he told me tonight.”

“In the Tucker household it is,” Trip sighed, closing his eyes. “We still see it as a coming of age, taking on adult responsibilities, including starting in the family company. Mama wasn’t happy when I didn’t come home for the weekend. I’d submitted my thesis and was in the middle getting ready for the oral defence. Mama and Daddy didn’t take to kindly to my excuses, saying some time with family would help. That’s when I told them about you and explained it wouldn’t be much of a celebration without the man I’d fallen in love with.”

“Love, Trip,” Jon’s tone had an edge to it. His heart beat painfully in his chest. Archer had always been a love at first sight kind of guy. He’d known this relationship could be ‘the one’ within an hour of meeting Trip. The fact that Tucker saw them in the same light made Jon’s soul sing and explained Trip’s sudden apprehension, his fear of failing at his first ever **_meaningful_** relationship. It was something Archer would have to keep in mind, as they navigated sharing a living space.

“Don’t tell me you think it’s too early for those feelings,” Trip moved suddenly. Now facing each other, their eyes locked. “You were the one who said monogamist.”

Sighing, Jon touched Trip’s face with the tips of his fingers. Three weeks ago, he’d almost flinched at the contact. Now, Tucker leant in, making a content noise at the gesture.

“Don’t ever stop doing that, Jonny,” Trip stated softly. “I like the way it feels, as if I’m the most important thing in the world to you.”

“You are,” Jon confessed easily, his eyes expressing all he couldn’t get out of his suddenly parched throat.

A hand crept up Archer’s arm, over his shoulder, around his neck and then pulled him forward. When their lips met, it was soft, sweet and full of love. “So,” Trip smiled impishly as he pulled away, “you going to tell me you love me too.”

“Nope,” Jon pulled Tucker back in for another heart-warming kiss, before moving his lips to Trip’s jaw and whispering, “I’m going to show you, in every way I know how.”


	15. Never Apart: Saturday 11th to Sunday 12th March 2141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> As an author, I’m really not happy with this chapter. The first part is a bit of a filler. There are some tender and endearing moments between Trip and Jon towards the end. In terms of plot, we don’t get a lot. We do get a sense of storm clouds on the horizon. As Anastasia said in her review, Jon’s been on his own a long time and Trip’s new to a committed relationship. I hope you enjoy and any suggestions will be considered. I can promise the story will start to move along, time wise, from the next part on.

“Do you think you will ever join the family company?” Jon asked, settling into his seat on the transport back to San Francisco. Any discussion about that topic had been off limits, as had many others while they remained with the Tucker family. Archer learnt to navigate the complex politics quickly. The last five days proved less trying than the weekend, especially after the O’Shea’s confirmed Trip’s suspicions. He would become an uncle in six months.

Sunday, Lizzy and James managed to disappear when the ruckus started after Victoria’s not so surprise announcement at the end of brunch. Trip stayed around long enough to congratulate his sister and her husband, before suggesting he give his Mama and Daddy time with the expectant family. Vicky rolled her eyes in that way; a gesture Archer was coming to see as a particular Tucker trait. It meant ‘thanks for nothing, why don’t you just abandon me!’.

They’d spent a couple of hours walking hand in hand long the pristine sand, discussing what they’d do for the rest of the week. While they took in the sights around Panama City, each considered their expectations, personal and professional, when they returned to California. Neither Jon nor Trip quite knew what their new roles at The Complex would entail, but they were excited to be embarking on this new phase of their life, if a little nervous about entwined their living arrangements and all that it entailed. Being on holiday was not the same as sharing an apartment long term. The shine would soon wear off as reality set in.

Discussing their hopes and fears over the next few days, they agreed their relationship should remain low keyed but open with their colleagues. Jon’s rules would stay in effect while on duty. Intimacy would be relegated to their shared domicile and the weekends. That didn’t preclude mutual friendships with work mates, or going out to social functions as a couple, unless in an official capacity. The rest, they would have to make up as they went along.

Snorting at the thought of adding his skills to the family business, Trip shook his head, turning his amused baby blues on Jon. “I’m not sure if you got the fact, but Jamie’s the one with a head for business. Like the rest of us, he’s finished his high school requirements at least a year early. He’s waiting to take an internship in August. Daddy insisted he start at the bottom and work is way up. My brother spent every moment at the office ever since I can remember. He used to force Grandpa to take him along, just to make sure he’d be the one to take over.”

“I didn’t get a lot of time to speak with James,” Jon responded. “He’s the silent type.”

“Yeh, that he is. Hilarious, when he gets to know you. Jamie wouldn’t think twice about pulling a prank, and keep a straight face throughout the whole thing with that ‘what me, no way’ expression. Who do you think taught me everything I know,” lips braking into a wide smile, Trip did that Tucker eye rolling thing. “At least Mama and Daddy will leave us alone for a few years, especially now Vicky’s starting a family. My sister’s never going to leave Ireland with a husband and baby, so we’re safe from the ‘how’s your relationship progressing, Trip’ questions.”

“Oh,” Jon’s unexpected conversation with Charlie the night of Trip’s party finally made sense. _Tucker’s marry and reproduce early_ , Archer recalled his boyfriends’ words as a shiver of apprehension travelled down his spine.

“Don’t worry, Jonny,” Trip chuckled at the expression of horror crossing Archer’s features. “I told you before, and I’m damn sure you heard me telling Grandpa, I’m not one to follow the Tucker herd, or give in to expectations. Besides, living across the country, it’ll be James turn to fulfil those hopes before he knows it, especially if he takes over the company. Got to have the next generation of Tucker’s on the way.”

“What about Lizzy?” Jon asked, curiously.

“She’s been drawing houses since I can remember. Mama’s made arrangements for my baby sister to work and study architecture with her company,” Trip stated. “Not that Lizzy doesn’t spend a part of every holiday at the office, learning as much as she can. That is, when she’s not out chasing boys or sleeping in late.”

“With said boys,” Jon teased. He’d been surprised Alice and Charlie allowed their fifteen-year-old daughter’s boyfriend to stay over the weekend.

“Mama always said,” Trip shook his head, hiding a smile, “she’d rather have her kids under her roof where she knew what they were doing, with who and staying safe. She made us go to the doctor the moment she suspected we were sexually active and start on contraceptives. Drummed in the importance of only making a baby when we were ready. Besides, this was the first time Lizzy’s asked to have a boy stay over. We were all about the same age when we started experimenting with, well, intimate situations.”

“I’m not sure I would have survived,” Jon mocked, “much longer with your family, Trip. Between your Dad and Grandfather, I got a grilling. That pair are better at putting a guy under the microscope than the entire Starfleet Psych Department. Promise me, one week a year, at most.”

“Sure. But I can’t promise Mama won’t find a reason for a surprise visit San Francisco. Besides, you would’ve survived,” Trip returned with a teasing tone and an easy shrug of his shoulder. “You wouldn’t have had a choice. Daddy and Grandpa only interrogate people they actually like. I guess you have to stick around now, Jonny, or you’ll have all my male relatives after you.”

“Not to mention Major O’Shea!” Rolling his eyes, Jon wondered just how much of the Tucker ethos he’d absorbed by osmosis. As much as he wanted to take Trip’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together, they were in uniform, as required by Starfleet regulations on an official shuttle. The holiday was over and they would soon be back to reality. Landing at the Presidio an hour later, they changed into civilian clothing and transitioned to a local transport before walking the last few blocks to Archer’s building.

“Well,” Jon looked towards his boyfriend as they approached the door, “it looks like we’re home.”

“Yes,” Trip made the word long and low, his heart pounding a little as the truth finally set in. He was anxious, excited, happy, confused and several other emotions he couldn’t quite define.

“Second thoughts?” Jon asked, pausing on the side walk. He knew they needed to have this moment, to settle both their nerves.

“Third, fourth and fifth,” Trip confessed. “About an equal mix of good and bad.”

“We’ve got the weekend to sort some of them out,” Jon responded with a bashful smile. “Besides, I think I can find something to take you mind off the bad, at least for a while.”

“Promise,” Tucker asked, a cheeky smirk stating he appreciated the attempt to make him feel better.

“You know,” Archer lent in, placing an arm around Trip’s shoulder, “you’re not the only one. Last time I moved in with someone, it didn’t end well.”

“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” Trip responded, understanding that he meant it.

The expression, one Jon had never seen before, bespoke determination. “Promise.”

“Promise,” Trip smiled. “Come on, we never did get a chance to share a shower at my folks.”

Shaking his head, Jon used his pass to open the door into the foyer. The Ensign stationed at the desk greeted them with a polite, “Sirs.”

“Ensign Galliott,” Jon tuned into Commander Archer the moment they stepped over the threshold. Dropping the arm from his lover’s shoulders, there were certain protocols that needed addressing in a professional manner. Siding up to the desk and turning to the man at his side, Jon introduced, “Lt. Charles Tucker, better known as Trip.”

“I’d like to welcome you to the building, Sir,” Remy Galliott addressed Lt. Tucker without so much as an eye blink. Handing over a card with an imbedded data chip, she added in a friendly voice with just a hint of flirtatious teasing, “I’m sure Commander Archer can show you the location of your apartment. However, every new tenant has to undergo an induction. Would tomorrow at 1000 be convent?”

“Sure,” Trip stated, somewhat surprised by the ease of this first hurdle. It was more indicative of his own inane emotions than the reality of societies beliefs on same gender relationships. Moving in was proving to be a bigger step than Charles Tucker anticipated. That old fear of failing crept into the his subconscious.

“Ensign Vidal will be on duty in the morning, Sir. I’ll ensure he’s aware of the appointment,” Remy continued in her heavy French accent. “Ensign Wagner came by a few days ago. When your billet came though, we took your belongings up. They're just inside the door.”

“Très bien, merci,” Trip thanked the woman a little hesitantly. It had been some years since speaking anything but standard.

“Tu parles français,” the Ensign asked if Lt. Tucker spoke her native language with some surprise.

“Un peu et pas bien. J'ai appris au lycée et je n'ai pas pratiqué depuis,” embarrassed, Tucker turned to Jon, who’s expression asked when he’d learnt a language. “Mama made us all take one language throughout school, all the way to our senior year.”

“Major O’Shea said you were over achievers,” Archer shook his head, realising he shouldn’t be surprised.

“Lizzy and James speak three beside Standard,” Trip responded, “so Vicky and I are considered a little backwards only knowing two. Hell, Mama’s kept up Arabic, even though she hasn’t used it since designing half the building on the New Palm Jumeirah in Dubai.”

Suddenly realising they’d been ignoring Ensign Galliott, Jon nodded a dismissal. Placing a hand in the middle of Trip back now the ensign knew they were living in a one-bedroom apartment and could take an educated guess at the state of their relationship, Archer didn’t see the point of hiding their relationship as he guided Tucker towards the lifts. Grinning, Jon indicated the id card in Trip’s hand. Getting the idea, a wicked grin took over.

“I guess I’ve officially moved in,” blue eyes flashed with delight and something more intimate as they stepped into the car. Holding Jon’s gaze, both felt their heart rate increase, their pupils dilate and blood rush south. Bags dropped on top of the two boxes containing all of Trip’s possessions, the door hardly closed before lips crashed together. Fingers sought and found fasteners, peeling clothing from bodies rapidly heating with passion.

“I’m not christening our place with you against the wall,” Jon panted. By the time Archer walked his lover into the all-purpose living room, he knew they’d never make it to the bed, let alone the bathroom. Pushing Trip onto the couch, Archer knelt, his hazel glare demanding his lover stay still, sprawled out before him, so he could feast his eyes on him, so he could come to term with the fact they both lived here, in this space, together.

“I love you,” Jon whispered an eternity later, lacing their fingers together. Forcing Trip’s hands above his head, Archer’s lips descended. Not allowing any other part of his body contact, he was going to make this last as long as possible. Knowing that wouldn’t be anywhere near long enough, they had all weekend before they had to report for duty Monday morning.

“You’re killing me,” Trip tore his mouth away endless minutes later. Blue eyes pleading.

“Patience,” Jon whispered, drinking in those lips again, before lifting his head and seeing piteous begging to move faster. “You got to learn patience, sweetheart. Good things come to those who wait.”

With that, Jon moved away. “What the hell,” Trip came up onto his elbows, watching Archer stand.

Before Tucker could grab anything worthwhile, Jon made sure he was out of reach from Trip’s marauding hands. “Supplies are either in the draw beside the bed or my kit,” he explained with a wicked grin. “We are not going any further without the proper preparation.”

“Bed,” Trip growled, clambering off the sofa and pushing Jon in the direction he assumed was the bedroom. Liberating said supplies, he looked at the unopened tube, before turning questioning eyes on his lover. Deciding that conversation could wait, Tucker’s glare stated he was done waiting and indicated just where he wanted his boyfriend.

Trip woke to an empty bed. The smell of bacon frying, the feel of heat radiating from the environmental system and sight of weak sunlight cascading through the window showing a glimpse of the bay, forced Tucker to move. They’d not bothered to unpack last night. Instead, the pair showered, located their hastily discarded clothing and redressed. Jon took out Trip to dinner at a local family owned restaurant. They’d enjoyed a simple meal, although it soon became obvious Archer frequented the place regularly. Stopping at a store as they ambled around the neighbourhood in the rapidly cooling evening, Jon picked up some necessary supplies at the local grocers. He’d been gone the better part of eight months and the Ensign assigned to concierge duty had done a spectacular job of closing down Archer’s apartment.

Finding his boxers and a t-shirt, Tip padded out to the living room. Letting his nose lead the way, he found Jon in the small attached kitchen. “I didn’t know you cooked.”

“I enjoy it,” Archer indicated the freshly brewed coffee in the machine. “Usually, I don’t get much of a chance during the week. I eat at the commissary while on duty, or the 602 if I catch up with friends after work. Sometimes it doesn’t seem worth making a mess for one person, so I get take out. Anyway, you’d better get a move on. You’ve got the building induction in half an hour.”

“You coming?” Trip asked, fixing two cups and placing them on the bench. Stealing a rash of bacon, his expression was comical.

“Not right at the moment,” Jon looked towards his groin with suppressed mirth. Greeted by Trip’s groan, Archer chuckled and indicated he was almost done cooking. “I though you would have been satisfied after last night.”

“Why do you think I’m starving,” Tucker responded, moving to set the table. Jon pointed a spatula at various cupboards as they continued to talk over the picture of domestic bliss. “I need to take a run, get to know the area. Join me?”

“We can finish up at the water front,” Jon acquiesced easily, loading their breakfast onto plates. “Most of the Fleeter’s below Commodore level live in Russian Hill. This block’s been slowly taken over and new, purpose-built apartment complexes constructed in the last ten years. There’s another two just like it, dotted around the neighbourhood with plans for more in the future. I’ll point them out. Knob Hill has a similar enclave for the Commodores and some of the civilian consultants, while the Admirals have houses in or near Presidio Heights.”

“If Starfleet keeps growing,” Trip sighed with delight, chewing furiously and swallowing before continuing, “this whole section of San Francisco will become official housing.”

The discussion continued until they made their way down to the lobby. Greeted by Ensign Pablo Vidal, the Peruvian turned out to be knowledgeable about the building, taking Trip through the emergency procedures before showing him the facilities. They were state of the art, just like the security protocols. It took the best part of an hour to complete the tour and accompanying paper work.

“General transport stations two blocks east,” the Ensign explained, returning to his desk in the foyer. “A lot of our residents either work at HQ or the Complex, so there are scheduled flyers from the rooftop landing pad. I’ve taking the liberty of booking you on the same shuttle as Commander Archer, Sir. Monday morning 0730. There’s an ensign on duty but we might be a bit difficult to find during the week as that’s our busiest period. We can make any arrangements you need. Best way to contact us is through the Starfleet id for this building, that way the message will come directly to the desk computer and whoever’s on duty can action it immediately.”

“How many apartments?” Trip asked, intrigued. His Mama would love to see this place.

“Forty stories, between two and eight residences per floor,” Vidal reeled off the statics easily. “Anything from studios for unmarried Ensigns to family apartments for Captains. We house one hundred and fifty officers, made up of sixty-two couples, twenty-nine with families. Of course, not all couples are like you, both in Starfleet. I can place you on the list for a two bed, which is your right.”

“Jon?” Trip asked. He liked the idea.

“How long?” Archer asked, “and will I retain my..our view?”

Frowning, Pablo delivered the sad news. “One should come up in about three months, but it might be on a lower floor and without a view. All the two beds for Commanders are on the south side of the building.”

“We’ll discuss it,” Trip could tell Jon was reluctant. The thought of a new place, one neither of them had lived in appealed to Tucker.

"However, those for Lieutenant's face east and are lower. The views' obstructed but not much more than what you already have, if that helps, Sir," Vidal explained.

Sighing, Jon could read that hopeful expression. “Let us know when the first apartment comes up, Ensign.”

“Yes, Sir,” Vidal nodded.

“Thanks,” Trip grinned. “Any other words of wisdom?”

Responding to the irrepressible Lieutenants humour, Pablo knew Tucker would soon become a favourite with his winning personality. “The pool can get a little crowed with kids after school lets out and the gym before and after shift. Best if you avoid those times. Apart from that, you’ll probably never see anyone. Unless you join in the social society. They meet once a week, usually Friday afternoon on the leisure deck.”

“Friday,” Trip’s eyes shone. “Thanks, Pablo. Come on Jon, I’m ready to explore the neighbourhood.”

“Might I suggest lunch at Frescos if you don’t have any other plans,” Vidal smile. “It opened up while you were on _Intrepid_ , Commander. It’s located on Pier 39 and is proving popular with our residences.”

“Remind me to thank Pablo if we manage to get home after all this food,” Trip sighed, his palate satisfied by the pappardelle with veal ragù. He’d shown a little of the culture his parents expected of a Tucker, pairing it with a medium-bodied Chianti while sitting with a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the bay. “I think this place is going to become a favourite.”

“The afternoon’s young,” Jon reminded, watching his companion with a delighted smile.

“Well,” Trip lent in, his hand open and eyes suggesting Archer fill it with his own, “after we finished this bottle, I expect a much slower amble back to the apartment. And when we get there, I expect that shower you been threatening me with for the last week.”

His face lighting up, Jon stated, “you got it.”


	16. Fight and Flight: Monday 13th March 2141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trip gets a life lesson he won’t soon forget, with a little angst mixed in. He is, at this point, only twenty-one to Jon’s twenty-nine. I hope you enjoy.

“Captain Jeffery’s,” Trip enquired, holding out his hand.

It had taken the better part of half an hour to track down his new boss. Lt. Tucker wasn’t nervous about starting with one of the engineering teams at the Complex. He’d worked here before, in the labs at the R & D test centre. Meeting the officer in charge of his division triggered Trip’s apprehension. If reports were correct, Captain Jeffery’s didn’t know the first thing about engineering or warp drives. Hell, he’d told Jon that the man didn’t know an EPS conduit from a plasma relay the first day they’d met.

“Lt. Tucker reporting for duty, Sir,” Trip offered, glancing around the room. It seemed to be a cross between a library and museum. Models of several early space craft and engines littered the glass encased shelves.

Looking at offered salutation, the older man scrutinised the attached individual. He’d been at a lecture given by Tucker eight months previously. The kid was a master academic to be sure, but had no practical experience where it really counted. It would take months to bring him up to speed, in Jeffery’s opinion. Dr. Tucker would do better on the theoretical team with his background.

“I have no use for you, Dr. Tucker,” the Captain stated in a clipped tone, placing his hands behind his back in an at ease position. “I never asked for a green Ensign to join my team. I need an experienced officer willing and able to get his hands dirty if I’m to turn this project into a reality.”

“Well, Sir, I guess you got your wish,” Trip stated, managing to keep his tone even, even if his drawl increased, openly displaying his displeasure.

“How old are you son?” Jeffery’s attempted another angle when the first obviously hadn’t enflamed the situation.

“Old enough to know procedure and protocol, Sir, and that a Captain with years of experience can read rank bars,” Trip ground out, barely managing to keep his temper in check. He’d expected a grilling, maybe some flak at his qualifications, but not this level of obvious contempt.

“Six months as an ensign,” Jeffery’s scoffed. He’d read Tucker’s personnel file two years ago, when his orders first came through. They requested he season the kid, making him into a line officer able to stand up to Vulcan reproach. Seemed he could do that very well already, if that lecture was anything to go by. “No practical involvement with a working warp drive or an engine room on a Starfleet vessel. Hardly what I’d term experience, Dr. Tucker.”

“Be that as it may, Sir,” Trip responded, “I’ve been assigned to your team because I’m the best at what I do. I’d like the opportunity to demonstrate my practical skills.”

“Ensign Hess,” Captain Jeffery’s roared, glaring at the young Lieutenant as if he were an imposition. His voice echoed out the open door and down the hallway.

A delicate woman answered with “Aye, Sir.” Hurrying over, she couldn’t be any older than Trip. Short blond hair, untamed and sticking out at all angles, rather well-endowed for her short stature and the craziest eyes, one blue, the other brown, captured Tucker’s gaze. “What are you looking at, Lieutenant?” she demanded with a glare that could strip paint.

Without putting his words through a filter, Trip confessed, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with different coloured eyes before. They’re fascinating.”

“Good,” Ensign Hess huffed, “just make sure it’s my eyes you’re gawking at. Any other part of my anatomy and I’ll have you up on charges.”

Holding his hand up, Trip gave his million-watt smile and mocked, “no fear from me, Ensign. Wrong assets and my boyfriend would get jealous.”

Hess held Tucker’s gaze, endeavouring to determine if he was telling the truth.

Attempting to hide a smile, the Captain deliberately paired the ‘green’ officer with the feistiest member of his team. Young she might be, but Christina Hess was no one’s fool. Arron Jeffery’s had learnt that the hard way, allowing his eyes to drift to her chest once to often. She’d threatened to have him written up for harassment. Within an hour, Ensign Hess would know if this ‘intellectual’ had what it took to join his team. Understanding his own lack of experience in their project area, the Captain wondered what wisdom caused Starfleet to put an old UESPA weapons officer in charge of the warp engine research team.

“Hess, this is Dr. Charles Tucker,” the Captain stated, forcing attention to himself. “Give him the tour and introduce him to the rest of the team. Lt. Commander Wu will assign your duties after your induction. Dismissed.”

“Well,” Hess pivoted on a foot and marched off, as if Captain Jeffery’s wasn’t watching every detail and analysing his newest recruit. Calling over her shoulder, she mocked, “this way, Dr Tucker.”

Shaking his head, Trip wondered what he’d gotten himself into. True, he had to learn to take orders. He’d never done any real space time, or been in a command structure. Last night he’d sat on the couch, Jon’s arm around his shoulder and they’d talked about Commander Archer’s experiences as a junior officer. Although Jon had tried to make it sound amusing, Trip knew this wasn’t going to be a bed of roses. He was the most knowledgeable member on the team in regard to Henry Archers design, more so than the older, space hardened engineers. He’d played with the parts of the new warp engine, understood how they fitted together. Hell, he’d even redesigned two components and his mind just couldn’t stop considering how the EPS conduits on a real ship would cope with the increased power output. Half the relays would burn out, if they didn’t come up with a solution.

“You still with me,” Hess demanded. She’d paused half way to the door when the Lieutenant didn’t move.

“Just thinking,” Trip sighed. He’d never been one to hold back his ideas.

“Is that what that noise was?” she asked, a careful expression covering her features. “About what?”

“The EPS relays and how they’re not going to take the increased output from the new engine,” Trip stated honestly. “We’re going to have to redesign the whole damn system if we want this contraption to fly.”

Giving him a startled expression, Ensign Hess swallowed.

“Please, call me Trip,” Tucker offered.

“Everyone gets called by their last name,” Christina stated. “I’m Hess. Don’t forget it.”

“How about we forget the tour,” Trip stated sourly. “I’ve got too much work to get through, besides, I’ve been in and out of this place for the last four years while I redesigned the Plasma manifolds.”

“That was you,” Christina asked. She’d heard the rumours about some smart arsed kid making improvement even the Vulcan’s couldn’t negate. Looking beyond Tucker, she noticed Captain Jeffery’s nodding. Quickly diverting her gaze back to the Lieutenant, it seemed he’d forgotten the team leader was still in the room. It proved two points. When Tucker’s mind was engaged on an issue, everything else was forgotten, and he was completely dedicated to seeing Henry Archer’s engine fly.

“Yep,” Tucker smirked, pulling out all the stops. He knew that smile made most women melt. It didn’t seem to work on Ensign Hess and Trip found himself glad. “I just need you to take me to the engineer in charge of this project. I can take a look around later.”

“You know,” Hess approached the subject carefully, watching her boss make a hasty retreat through another exit, “Captain Jeffery’s and Commander Wu are sticklers for protocol.”

“I got that,” Trip frowned. “Believe me, after dealing with the Vulcans for years, I know how to play the game.”

“I sure hope so,” Christina muttered under her breath, thinking the Lieutenant had very little real idea of Starfleet politics.

The day proved frustrating for Trip. Commander Wu decided that talking about upgrades would have to wait until he’d completed the induction, which he’d done several time over the last few years. After that came the mandatory evacuation and safety drills. By lunch time, Lt. Tucker was ready to lose his temper.

“Bad day?” Jon asked, sliding into the seat beside Trip. He’d called over to engineering, only to find Lt. Tucker had gone to lunch.

“Now what makes you say that?” Trip demanded in a sour tone.

“Oh, the body language,” Jon really tried not to laugh. “The attitude, the tone….”

“Mock me if you want,” Trip responded, his shoulders slumping, “it’s not like the rest of my team aren’t doing exactly that behind my back. You know, not one of them has called me anything thing but Dr. Tucker all morning. I may as well not be in Starfleet or wearing this uniform.”

“This isn’t MIT,” Archer reminded, gently. “They don’t know you, what your capable of. You’re just someone who managed to climb the ladder far too quickly. If you were placed on my team, I’d have to wonder why.”

“I know,” Trip grumbled again. “It’s just that I want to get on with it, not stand around talking about which door to run out of if there’s a fire, or where the emergency med kit is stored.”

“Protocol, Trip,” Jon captured and held his lover’s eyes. “You’re really in Starfleet now. You’re a **_junior_** officer. You have to know your place, no matter what you have to offer in terms of the project. If I recall correctly, you told me that yourself, the day we met.”

“I know,” Tucker threw himself back in his seat and crossed his arms. Sighing, he finally asked, “so, how’s your day?”

“I’m stuck with A.G.,” Jon stated, “so how do you think?”

“Seems,” that brought a smile to Trip’s lips, “I’m not the only one having a bad day. That man is one smarmy SOB.”

“Try working with him,” Jon shook his head. “Look, I snuck out between briefings. See, you’re not the only one being indoctrinated and I’ve worked here before. Anyway, I got to get back. See you on the transport tonight?”

“Fine, save me a seat,” Trip picked up his sandwich, carefully considering Jon’s words as he watched his boyfriend walk away. _I have to admit, it’s a damn fine view. Why do I get the feeling Jon’s deliberately swinging his hips just a little? I’ll get that man back when we get home tonight._

Lt. Tucker didn’t make the transport. After thinking up a way to demonstrate his latest theory, Trip went to the R and D labs where he was owed a favour or two. After running his ideas past them, he borrowed some props. Showing up at the engineering building, he set up his experiment.

“Where have you been, Dr. Tucker,” Commander Wu asked, his tone enraged.

“Sir, I’d like you to take a look at this?” Trip stated.

Cheng See Wu approached, cautiously. A fifteen-year veteran, firstly of the UESPA and then Starfleet, he’d spent most of those years in the engine room of various classes of vessels. He got what the Lieutenant was attempting and saw the flaw immediately.

“You haven’t taken into account the negligible bleed from other systems,” Commander Wu stated. “That’s the problem with you theoretical engineers. Come with me, Tucker. Hess, organise a pilot to take us to Orbital in one of the sub warp shuttles.”

“Aye, Sir,” she took off. Returning a few minutes later, Hess indicated that they’d better get their tails over to the launch pad. A transport was schedule to leave in five minutes with some dignitaries and she’d managed to wrangle passage for them. Christina spent her first year as an Ensign on _Endeavour_ , before coming to this project. She knew exactly what Commander Wu was about to show Tucker.

The entered the vessel by the rear door, leading directly to the cramped engine compartment. Wu sat Tucker down at a station and told him to watch the amperage, comparing it to the ships speed as the engine fired up. Then, the older man stood back and observed. He wanted to know how quickly this supposed genius got it.

“Sir,” Trip turned his expressive blue eyes to the commander. They’d just entered the stratosphere when understanding dawned. “I’m such an idiot.”

“Nothing beats experience,” Wu smirked. Tucker had picked up his hint quicker than he thought possible. “The way I hear it, your far from an idiot, Tucker. You’re used to working on engines in isolation. There are other factors on a ship that need to be considered. Every ship is different, even vessels of the same class have their own temperaments.”

Swallowing hard, Trip asked the question that suddenly appeared in his mind. “Do you think I’d benefit from a space assignment? That it would help with our project?”

“Yes,” Wu answered succinctly, “but not right now. We have to keep moving forward.”

Nodding his understanding, Trip recognised the warning. Vulcan interference in his thesis had been brutal at times, especially when they thought he was moving too fast for their liking. “I been there before, Sir.”

“You’ll get your chance to serve in a working engine room, Tucker. I think you’re where you need to be at the moment. However, I need you full co-operation and support on this. No more going behind my back and using tactics like to day. If you have an idea, I want to hear it, even if I shoot it down within seconds,” glaring at the junior officer, Commander Wu used a tone that convinced Trip is was time to toe the line, “understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” Tucker nodded. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good. We’ll be at Orbital soon. I’m not sure if Hess booked us on a return transport,” Wu stated, watching the colour drain from the Lieutenant.

“Aw, hell,” Trip looked and sounded contrite, “what’s Jon going to think.”

“Jon?”

“My boyfriend,” Trip shook his head. “I guess I’ll just have to call and explain what’s happened when we know what’s going on.”

“According to your record, you live in Starfleet housing,” the Commander recalled.

“Moved in Friday,” Trip suddenly knew were this conversation was going. Hiding his amused reaction, Tucker decided to play with his commanding officer. He wanted to see if he had a sense of humour.

“Well,” Wu sighed with more than a little frustration, “I wanted you up to speed as quickly as possible. I was going to get you started on the systems that bleed power from the EPS relays as this was your idea. I guess you’ll just have to study at work and slow the process down.”

“Why?” Trip asked.

“Security,” Wu stated. “Starfleet wants to make sure our design doesn’t get into the wrong hands. Only those working on the NX project have access to the data.”

“Jon’s clearance level is the same as mine,” Tucker stated with a grin. “At least it was last time we worked together. Now, maybe it’s higher.”

Commander Wu raised an eyebrow understanding Jon was fleet and probably a higher rank that Tucker. “What division?”

“Aviation,” Tucker stated, holding back just a little. “Jon’s a test pilot.”

“What rank,” Wu continued his interrogation. Unable to let this go, Cheng See had a feeling he knew the answer before it came out of the Lieutenant’s month. The pieces were fitting together, especially when you considered the lecture tour last year and the fact it kick-started this program. “Let me get this straight, your boyfriend is Commander Jonathan Archer, as in Henry Archer’s son.”

“Yes, Sir,” Trip couldn’t help the grin that encompassed his face. “Is that going to be a problem.”

“Not at all,” the Commander smiled, gleefully, handing the younger man a PAD he’d produced from one of his many pockets. “It means you just scored a heap of homework, Tucker. I expect you up to speed by the end of the week, seeing as security’s not going to be a problem. You might as well make use of the next half hour, before we dock. There’s a lot for you to get through.”

Cursing under his breath, Trip heeded the warning when he noticed the amount of data stored on the PAD. Getting off the transport at Orbital, Tucker intended to wait while the Commander arranged either their passage back to Earth, or accommodations for the night. He’d com Jon once he knew either way and explain the situation. As the engineers vacated the shuttle, the dignitaries also departed from the forward hatch. Admiral Black and Rear Admiral Leonard had the stations Captain dancing attendance on them the moment they alighted.

“Lt. Tucker,” Leonard pounced when he noticed the young man. “Congratulations on your promotion and achieving your doctorate. I believe you spent some months on Orbital and you know the Captain Wallace?”

“Yes, Sir,” nodding to the senior officers, Trip muttered pleasantries for a few minutes, before they were escorted away.

“Friends in high places,” Commander Wu stood back throughout the exchange. Tucker’s use to Captain Jeffery’s just increased dramatically. Especially if he had the ear of Admiral Yamamato’s brother-in-law and links to the pilots.

“Doesn’t necessarily follow that I want them,” Trip frowned.

“You might need them one day,” Wu cautioned.

Snorting at the thought, Trip answered mockingly, “by then they’ll probably be retired. Believe me, Commander, those sorts of friends I can do without.”

Nodding his understanding, Commander Cheng See Wu realised he’d underestimated Tucker and his use to their division. He needed to get them home tonight and report to Captain Jeffery’s in person. Calling in a couple of favours, they were on a transport back to Starfleet HQ within the hour.


	17. My Life with You:  Monday 13th March to Saturday 25th March 2141

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I edited this chapter, it grew until I had to break it into two. I also shifted a scene thanks to Anastasia. Once we spoke about Jon meeting Hess, I knew I had to make more of that.

“Trip,” Jon’s worried face filled the screen. When his boyfriend didn’t make their transport, Commander Archer attempted to contact Lt. Tucker. Knowing Trip’s ability to become completely absorbed in an engineering task to the exclusion of everything around him, the Jon wasn’t sure if he should be concerned at the lack of an answer to his call or consider this a preview of things to come. Boarding the next transport, Archer really started to worry as the hours passed without a word.

“I’m on my way home,” Tucker rolled his eyes, “from Orbital. I’ll tell you all about it over a very late dinner, if you haven’t eaten already.”

“I have, but that doesn’t mean I can’t sit with you while you eat,” Jon stated, his hazel eyes intrigued. “Sounds like you’ve got a story to tell.”

“You could say that,” Trip sighed wearily, while holding up the PAD. “I’ll start this homework so I can spend some time with you before bed. I’m on the 2130 shuttle landing at The Paradiso.”

Holding up his own PAD, Jon finally allowed a broad grin to cover his lips. “Looks like we all have reading so we can get up to speed on the project. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“So,” Trip asked, shovelling the last mouthful onto his fork, “A.G. knows about us?”

“Came up in conversation today,” Jon responded. “We agreed not to keep this a secret, Trip, but not to openly advertise it either.”

“My team knows,” Tucker lifted the loaded utensil to his mouth.

“I guess that,” amused, Jon smirked, “by the Lt. Commander standing in the background when you com’ed.”

“His wife was furious. Apparently, Wu missed some family thing. I couldn’t understand a word. The madder the misses got, the faster she spoke in Mandarin,” Trip shook his head, attempting to stifle his chuckle. When Jon’s lips curled into a smile, Tucker couldn’t hold back his mirth. It was a relief to laugh after the day he’d had.

“If you’re finished,” Jon indicated Trip’s plate, “I’ll stack that in the washer and we can go to bed.”

“You think this will happen a lot?” When Jon’s expression asked what, Tucker explained, “one of us having to work late, or having reports to read when we get home.”

“Part of the job,” Archer sighed, standing and encouraging his lover to do the same. “I booked the 0730 shuttle tomorrow, but I’ll be going in early the rest of the week.”

“The weekends,” Trip almost pleaded as they walked to the bedroom, “they have to be just for us. I want to introduce you to Pieter and Lee. Maybe we can all go out to dinner. They’re such a big part of my being with you.”

“Sure,” Jon agreed easily. “Set it up and let me know when. Now, come on, bed for you, Trip. You’re having trouble staying awake.”

“My minds still way too active,” he complained, dropping his uniform on the bathroom floor. It earned him a visual complaint from Jon. Rolling his eyes, Trip picked it up and threw it in the laundry hamper before grabbing his toothbrush. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Jon dead panned, watching his lover through the mirror. Handing over a towel, Archer shook his head. While the view might be great, the clean-up wasn’t. “You’re one sloppy SOB when you’re tired.”

“According to you,” Trip retorted after rinsing, very deliberately wiping out the basin and throwing the used towel into the hamper, “I’m a sloppy SOB all the time. Hell, Jon, we’ve been together a couple of weeks and your worse than my mother. Especially since I moved into your place.”

“You know,” Jon crossed his arms, blocking the door to the bedroom, “I’m just training you for space missions. You think we’re falling over each other in this apartment, try the limited space you’ll be assigned on a ship.”

“That’s going to be an issue, Jon,” Trip sighed, wearily forcing his lover towards their bed. “The one thing that I learnt today, I have to get into a working engine room and soon. Working on your daddy’s engine is great, but the other systems interfere, bleed tiny amounts of power that can only be accounted for by understanding the bigger picture.”

“I remember you saying,” Jon sounded shocked, “that you expected to spend half your time in space.”

“All that data I read on the flight from Orbital, I’m trying to integrate it into what I already know,” Shaking his head, Trip’s mind wouldn’t settle. “I learnt a valuable lesson today, Jon, that I don’t know almost nothing. I need to be in a working engine room, and soon. Commander Wu agrees. To get this project of the ground, I need more than a doctorate in Warp Engineering, I need practical experience.”

“Trip,” Jon’s tone turned serious, holding up the blankets, “you got to learn to let it go, compartmentalise and stop obsessing. I’ve seen you at your worst, preparing for those lectures. You get in a zone, which is great, in the right time and place.”

“You trying to tell me this isn’t the right time or place,” Trip yawned. Spooned in Jon’s arms, the facts and figures suddenly grew wings and flew way. “You got something to take my mind off work.”

“I thought you were tired,” he responded huskily.

“I’m never too tired for that,” Tucker smirked in response.

The days passed quickly. Jon and Trip found they had trouble making the same transport. With so many meetings to get the NX project rolling, one or the other had to be at the Complex early or stay late. Trip’s hours turned out to be less consistent than Jon’s. He often came home late and without warning. Friday night they’d agreed to meet at the 602 and celebrate their first week together.

Robinson, Duvall and Gardiner gravitated over to the same table. Jon’s cheeks took on an increasingly red hue as A.G. plied Trip with tales about Archer’s early career and several beers in quick succession. A mixture of anger and embarrassment caused the reaction from Commander Archer. He knew Robinson wasn’t above testing the bond between himself and Trip, nor steeling the younger man for a tryst if he gave the slightest hint, even though he wasn’t that way inclined. A.G. had tried the same with Carl, who told him exactly were to get off. Tucker was too well brought up for that, besides, Trip was eating up the stories and it made Jon more than a little jealous.

“I’m going to order something to eat,” Tucker stood suddenly, placing a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Looking down at him with a silent warning in those crystal-clear blue eyes, Archer knew Trip understood what A.G. was attempting. He’d been playing the pilot, which elicited a wide grin from the older man. “Want anything Jon?”

“Just you,” he stated easily.

“You’ll have me,” Trip responded in a normal tone, “when we get home. But I’m thinking you might need some food to soak up all that beer and keep your stamina up, old man.”

Glaring, Archer grunted. The rest of their table laughed at the banter.

A.G. followed Trip over to the bar, with the excuse that he needed to get another drink. Once there, Robinson attempted to put an arm around Tucker’s shoulders. “You ever lay a hand on me again,” Trip stated in a hard tone, shrugging off the limb, “you’ll be missing a couple of teeth. I don’t like you much, but I suggest you don’t destroy whatever bond you have with Jon. Now, I’m going to pretend like this was a test, to make sure I’m good enough for your friend.”

Nodding, Robinson’s lips turned upward. “Fair enough,” he responded. “You hurt him…”

“I know about Jon’s past romances,” Trip bit out, “just as he knows about mine. Besides being none of your business, you’ll lose those teeth if you interfere with our relationship. I don’t think we have any more to say to each other.” With that, Tucker turned his back on A.G. and signalled for the barmaid. “I’ll get you’re drink,” he threw over his shoulder loud enough for their table to hear.

“How do you to do it,” Robinson shook his head, the younger man’s threat still stinging. “Live together. I’d hate to be a fly on the wall when you fight.”

“Hasn’t happened yet,” Trip smirked as he slipped into his seat beside Jon. Tucker shouldn’t have said anything. It proved to be prophetic.

A fortnight later, on a cool but sunny Saturday afternoon, Jon walked out of their bedroom in casual clothing with a spring in his step. Wayne com’ed him while Trip was at that social gathering on the leisure deck last night. Tried after a demanding week and the complex ramping up, Archer encouraged the more social half of their partnership to go and meet the rest of the building’s occupants without him.

Reminded about their monthly meet up with the guys from his old water polo team, Jon was looking forward to seeing them, taking in a live game at Stanford followed by dinner and a few drinks. He’d managed to make it back to San Francisco while they were on the lecture tour, after reconnecting the weekend he’d first met Trip. On _Intrepid_ , Archer wrangle an audio-visual com, promising he’d join them in person the first chance he got. Last month, they’d been in Australia. This month, Jon wanted to tell them about his relationship and see if his boyfriend could come along in the future.

None of the others brought significant others, but then again, only Wayne was homosexual and it seemed there was a definite no women vibe to the group. Of the thirteen original players, three had moved to other continents and they’d lost contact with two, apart from Archer. From what Jon could ascertain, about six guys met regularly since graduating, depending on their schedules. Jon and Rio, he couldn’t recall the man’s actual name, were a little hit and miss.

 _I’m not missing another chance to catch up now I’ve moved back to San Francisco permanently_ , Jon grinned.

“You’re ready early,” Trip looked up from the PAD he was studying.

Alarms bells went off in Jon’s head. Scouring his memories, he recalled _something about dinner with, what was the Ensign’s name, the one that had helped Trip come to terms with his feelings. Wagner. That’s it. Surely, he didn’t arrange it for tonight?_

“Okay,” Trip put the PAD down very deliberately and stood, “I’m guessing from that look, you’re not dressed to go out to dinner with Pieter and Lee.”

“It’s the last Saturday of the month,” Jon explained.

“And that means?” When Archer started to shift his weight from foot to foot, Trip’s jaw dropped. “You got a prior engagement? That water polo thing?” he guessed. Jon had mentioned it once in passing and seemed really excited to be reconnecting with old friends.

“Yes,” Jon felt relieved, which disappeared a moment later. Hard, blue eyes glared back. “I’m going to ask if you can come along next month.”

“I never asked to be included in something that’s obviously really important to you, Jon,” Trip stated, the emotion in his voice barely constrained. “You and I need to have the freedom to go out with our friends individually, if that’s what we want. I’m not mad at the fact your showing your social side. I’m really disappointed about dinner with Pieter and Lee. They mean a lot to me. The fact I’m even here, in this relationship, is partly due to them.”

“Com me with the name of the restaurant and I’ll meet you there,” Jon tried for a compromise. “The game should be over by then.”

Trip shook his head, unable to keep a dejected note from his tone, “I’ll call Pieter and put it off for another few weeks.”

“Trip,” Jon started, only to be interrupted.

“You’re going to be late if you don’t get a move on,” Tucker slumped back onto the couch. Picking up his PAD, he threw over his shoulder, “besides, I got a lot of work to get through before Monday morning. I have to leave early for a departmental meeting.”

“Trip,” Jon tried again.

“Just go Jon, and enjoy your night with your buddies,” Trip tried to be upbeat and mean the words that issued from his mouth. “It’s not like I didn’t go to the mixer last night and come home a little worse for wear.”

Finally finding a sad smile, Jon marched over to the couch. Planting a kiss on the top of Trip’s head, he whispered, “I’ll be home about nine.”

Nodding, Trip responded with, “don’t hurry home on my account.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Jon demanded, stopping dead before he had time to move away. He didn’t like the tone and suspected a hidden meaning.

“It means I’m really disappointed but trying to keep it to myself so you’ll have a good time with your water polo buddies,” Trip explained. “Now get out of here.”

The pair glared at each other until Jon finally gave a huff and left. Tucker managed to keep his anger contained until the door closed. Changing into his running clothes, Trip waited ten of the longest minutes, just in case Jon decided to return and renew their disagreement. Using the time to fill a backpack, he com’d Pieter and asked if he could stay the night.

“Trouble in paradise?” Wagner greeted his friend at the door.

“You could say that,” Trip hugged the big German, followed by Lee who crowded in the hallway of his antique painted lady in one of the more upscale areas of the bay.

“Why don’t you go and put your things in the guest room,” Lee suggested with a significant glance at his partner. “I’ll make a pot of traditional tea and you can tell us about it.”

“That’s the thing,” Trip stated half an hour later, “it wasn’t even a fight, not really. I remember Jon telling me about this get together. I wasn’t happy about it, not for the reasons your thinking. Wayne one of his old boyfriends. In fact, the first man Jon slept with when he realised he’s gay. I know Jon’s committed to us, to our relationship, it’s just I’ve never experienced jealousy like that.”

Pieter and Lee looked at each other and couldn’t stop the giggles. “I never thought I’d see the day,” Pieter finally managed to control his humour. “When the great Trip Tucker was brought down. Oh, come on, Trip, how many girls did you screw with while we were in officer training.”

“Ha, ha,” Tucker responded, but the bug had found him. There was a twinkle in his eyes that suggested he could see how stupid he was being. “I sent Jon the date last week, asking if it was good for him. He sent back a response saying he didn’t have anything on. I guess that’s what got me so hot under the collar.”

Lee deliberately placed his cup on the table. Turning his almond shaped, warm brown eyes on Tucker, he said, “you’re going to have many little disagreements in the first few months. Most will be a lack of communication, or unfulfilled expectations. Either way, unless you talk about it, air your differences and come to a compromise, there is little hope for a future. If you stumble at the first sign of trouble, then the feelings between you are not enough to sustain a healthy relationship in the long term. It’s better you get this out now, address any issues, before you get in deeper.”

“If, as I suspect, this might be something the both of you want to last, then you need to go home and talk it out with Jon. Don’t let this fester. Little problems have a habit of growing and then exploding in your face at the most unexpected moment. You’re welcome to stay here tonight, Trip. We can order in,” Lee inched forward on the couch, “if you think it’s in your best interests.”

“Dinner, yes,” Trip smiled sadly, “staying, no. That was an impulsive reaction to being hurt. Why is it the people we love are the ones who can hurt us the most?” Turning to Pieter, Tucker asked, “how did you ever get mixed up with a shrink?”

“What can I say,” Pieter responded easily, “I’m a sucker for punishment. Now, what do you want to eat, we’ve got about every type of cuisine you can think of within a block radius.”

“Ever tried Mongolian?” Lee asked.

“You took me last time I stayed here,” Trip reminded.

“Once again,” Pieter smirked, “I’m a sucker for punishment. I’ll com them and make a booking. They get really busy on a Saturday night.”

While Trip enjoyed the evening he spent with Pieter and Lee, he had this wild fantasy that Jon and his friends might end up at the same restaurant. It was impossible, as Archer travelled 60 kilometres south to Stanford for the water polo match. The guys would probably choose a local place to eat. Leaving his Starfleet issued com at home, initially Trip had every intention of not letting Jon know where he was.

Handing Tucker his com, Lee suggest he at least leave a message. Nodding, while an embarrassed expression covered his face, Trip sent a text only message. _Hope you had a great night. Out with Pieter and Lee. Will be home about ten. Calling from Lee’s communicator. Trip._


	18. Fallout: Saturday 25th March to Tuesday 4th April 2141

“How are you, Trip,” Jon pounced the moment his lover came thought the door, somewhat later than the 2200 he’d stated.

“Honestly, not real happy right now,” Trip responded, removing his coat and deliberately taking his time to place it on a hook by the door. Tucker left the backpack with Pieter. He didn’t want to add more fat to this fire. “With you or myself.”

“Right,” Jon’s arms had been about to embrace Trip, but something, maybe the expression, stopped him. “I got your message.”

“You’re lucky I sent it,” Trip stated morosely, watching his feet. “It’s only because Lee’s such a great psychiatrist, that I realised how much damage my initial idea of staying over at their place without telling you where I’d gone would cause our relationship. That doesn’t mean I’m not mad as hell at you for telling me you could make it tonight, then forgetting and going out with your college buddies.” Sighing, Tucker looked at his lover. It seemed Jon’s expression stated he’d not had a great night either. “How was the Polo match?”

“I’m not sure I saw any of it,” Jon confessed. “That’s what I want to talk about Trip.”

Giving Archer a quizzical expression, Trip indicated he should get his feelings out in the open.

“Lee’s in Starfleet?” Jon asked, playing for time while struggling to find the right words to express his mixed emotions. Archer was surprised at Lee’s profession. Then again, Trip was an intellectual kind of guy under all that suave Southern Gentleman exterior. It was no wonder he’d made friends with other experts in their fields. This event brought home just how little they actually knew about each other, their friends, interests outside of work, hobbies and personalities.

“Yep,” Trip answered. “At least on a consulting basis. That’s how Pieter and Lee met. Pieter’s a doctor. And by the way, he’s a full Lieutenant since his internship period ended.”

Suddenly realising what a mess they’d made of this, Jon headed into the living room and patted the couch beside him. “Trip, tell me about them.”

“Why are you so interested now?” He asked in a strained voice.

“I had this preconceived idea,” Archer confessed, “that Pieter was the same age as you, or close enough. To have graduated medicine, he has to be at least twenty-five.”

“Seven, Pieter’s twenty-seven,” Tucker sighed, really not wanting to get into this right now, even if he knew it was the right thing to do and Jon was in a listening mood. “Two years younger than you.”

“And Lee?” Archer continued, wanting to keep Trip talking.

“I don’t know. Maybe late thirties, early forties. It’s hard to tell with his Chinese ancestry.” Huffing, Trip finally came to sit on the arm chair opposite his lover but still couldn’t bring himself to look at Jon. “They live in one of the last painted ladies in Outer Richmond. Lee’s family have always been doctors, so it was passed down to him from his parents.”

“Trip,” Jon’s tone asked, no pleaded, for the younger man to look at him. When he did, Archer sighed. He looked miserable, about as miserable as Jon felt. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Trip responded in a despondent voice. “I just wanted us to share this, Jon. Pieter, Lee, they’re a big part of the reason I came to grips with my sexuality. Watching them, their relationship, gave me the courage to be here with you. Hell, if Pieter hadn’t told me what I was feeling after we met, I’d don’t know if I’d have figured out I was attracted to you on my own.”

“I get that, Trip,” Jon moved to the end of the couch, within touching distance, but didn’t dare broch any physical contact yet. “I also get that I’ve reconnected with a group of people I thought I’d lost. Men with the same interests, even if we’ve grown apart and moved on with our careers and lives. One of my main aims in going tonight was to see if I could share that with you.”

“I’m not asking that, Jon,” Trip started.

Holding his hand up, Archer stated in a commanders voice, “I listened to you, it’s time you heard me out. They said no, no partners, even if their male. Going out, watching a match, it’s about remembering old times, our team spirit, telling stories, really embarrassing ones. Its about bonding to something other than our daily lives. I told them about our misunderstanding and they said family has to come first. That I should have put you ahead of them. That there will always be next month. It’s just…”

“Just what, Jon,” Trip encouraged.

Realising he had Tucker’s complete attention, Archer shook his head and stood. “You’re eight years younger than me. I thought I’d feel uncomfortable with your friends, just as you do with Robinson, Duvall and Gardiner. I should have known better. No, Trip, before you get all hot under the collar and shoot your mouth off, consider this from my point of view. You're gorgeous, in more than just looks. You step into a room and it lights up. Your outgoing, friendly, read people and situations. Added to all that you’re a doctor in your own right. How the hell can I compete with that?”

“I never wanted you to compete,” Trip stated emphatically. “I just want you to love me for who I am.”

“I do, more every day, sometimes so much it hurts,” Jon admitted. “You know, this was bound to happen eventually.”

“Yes,” Trip agreed. “I’m not sure how we learn to communicate more effectively. Sometimes it’s like were on the same wavelength, then….”

“We’re not,” Archer sighed.

“By the way,” Tucker managed to look on edge, “I’m not uncomfortable with Gardiner or Duvall. Their typical cocky pilots. I get that. But Robinson, he’s a piece of work. He tries to get handsy with me again, and I’ll, well, it won’t end well.”

Snickering, Jon shook his head. “He’s tried it on with all my boyfriends, I though you understood that. I watched you at the bar. Whatever you said to him got through, Trip.”

“I know he’s just looking out for you after Nick and Carl,” Tucker responded. “That sonofabitch is lucky I didn’t deck him where he stood for suggesting such a thing. He interferes with us again…”

“Well, the miscommunication tonight,” Jon’s finger pointed between them, trying to keep his reaction to Trip’s last comment contained, “isn’t going to happen again. We’re going to have to learn to talk more about our feelings and expectations. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to be this honest, to share my space and sync my calendar. Last Saturday of the month is out for me, Trip. I need to keep in touch with my water polo buddies, now I’ve found them.”

“About that. There’s something else I have to confess,” Trip admitted. “I’m suspicious of Wayne’s motivations. Damn it, Jon, he was the first man you slept with and now you’re going out with him socially after all this time. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but I have this image in my mind of a buff man in swimming briefs and nothing else. What,” Tucker demanded when Archer’s laugher threatened to drown him out.

Pulling out a PAD, Jon showed a pic of the group taken earlier that night. “That one is Wayne.”

Eyes round, Trip didn’t quite know what to say. “He’s let himself go,” was the nicest thing he could think of.

“I’m still not sure what I ever saw in him,” Jon acknowledged mockingly. “It’s even worse when he opens his mouth and recalls all the good times we had together, yes, as in that together and let me finish. I’m not sure I remember them with the same coloured glasses. Anyway, he wasn’t too happy when I sounded the group out about bringing my boyfriend.”

“Sounds like neither of us had a great night,” Tip responded.

“Have we learnt anything from it?” Jon asked, holding out his hand and hoping his lover would take it.

“I got an idea,” Trip finally grinned, accepting the offered olive branch and pulling Archer into his lap. “It’s old fashioned but always worked for my family. Can’t do anything about it right now, so I guess we can move on to the makeup sex.”

“Do you ever think of anything else?” Jon mocked, half seriously. While he was more than happy to get physical, Archer didn’t want to make the mistake of using intimacy as an end to any future disagreements. Not at least until they were completely resolved.

“Occasionally,” Trip’s hand forced Archer’s head down, while his lips demanded they stop talking and start reuniting.

Not sure he was ready to give in that easily, Jon pulled away and sighed. He needed to get his thoughts across, without spoiling the mood. He had plans for his younger lover, but wanted to ensure they were finally on the same page. “You know, sex is not the answer for everything, Trip.”

“Hell, Jon,” Trip sounded a little frustrated, his embrace tightening. “I’m eight years younger than you. You should have expected to make love every night with a horny twenty-one-year-old, especially as we’ve only be together a few months.”

“And that’s why Wayne recalls our relationship so fondly,” Jon whispered in Trip’s ear, teasingly. It had the desired effect. Tucker’s erection sagged and his expression darkened. “Nothing was ever resolved, problems went under the rug, and sex was used to shut one of us up. I’ve learnt, the hard way, that we need to be solid about tonight’s issue, before we take this to the bedroom.”

“Who said we’re taking it to the bedroom?” Trip demanded. “Before you say we have to talk about that, there is such a thing as being spontaneous. If I want…”

“Trip,” Jon’s hazel eyes took on that command look.

“Yes, Mr. Archer, I’ve learnt from tonight. Lee sat me down and told me some home truth’s I needed to hear. That’s the reason I’m here and not staying in their spare room attempting to make you as mad at me as I was at you. I get it, we need to hear and understand each other, not just listen. I got an idea, cause syncing our calendars doesn’t work. If you look on you PAD, I did that the moment you answered my message last week. I get that it’s been a while since you lived with someone and I’m going to have to do some training of my own. Your one sloppy SOB too, just not with your clothing on the bathroom floor, or leaving the cap off the toothpaste. You got to learn to let people in, loosen up once in a while and realise you not always in charge. Happy now!” Exasperated, Trip glared at the man still seated on his lap.

Jon answered by tipping Trip’s face up and laying feather light kisses along his jaw. “Happy.” He said, one-word equating to one caress. “Slow, deliberate, take my time, you’re going to come so hard.”

“Promise,” Trip asked, before the only noises in the room came from their shared pleasure.

The next day, after a morning run and brunch at Fresco’s, Trip directed Jon to the local outdoor market. It took some digging but he finally came up with his prize. Once they got home, Tucker attached the white board to the wall between the coat rack and the front door.

“You write on it,” Trip explained, holding a pen in his hand. “Anything important that’s coming up so we both know and see it every time we go out the door. Like your monthly meeting, or Lizzy’s birthday. By the way, Mama want’s both of us in Florida for a family dinner to celebrate next month.”

Jon’s look was scathing.

“It’s one night. We leave Saturday lunch time, get there in time for dinner, and leave after brunch,” Trip cajoled. “If Vicky and Rory can make it from Ireland, especially now she’s expecting, we need to be there too.”

“How many of these birthday dinners do we have to attend?” Jon demanded, knowing the size of Trips family and mentally shuddering.

“Only the close ones,” sighing at the look, Trip detailed, “Mama, Daddy, James, Grandpa, maybe Uncle Bob. Oh, and of course yours and mine. Although, we could have them all come here.”

“No, Florida’s fine. Just make sure these celebrations are not on the last Saturday of the month, Trip. Family might come first, but there not my family,” Jon groused.

“Yet,” Trip whispered as Jon stalked towards the bathroom. A wicked smile on his lips, Tucker would make it up to his boyfriend. He just had to wait until Archer had relaxed under the water and would be in a more receptive mood to his advances.

* * *

“Jon,” Trip sounded hesitant over the com. It had been a little over a week since their blow up and he didn’t want another disagreement between them when they were learning to communicate their feelings openly and easily.

“I’m not going to like this,” Jon asked with a deepening frown. He knew that look and it had disaster written all over it, “am I?”

“No,” Trip sighed, his blue eyes unusually troubled. “I’ve been posted to _Hypatia_ as the Chief Engineer’s assistant for the next three weeks. The ships waiting for me and my team to join the crew at Orbital. I’ve called housing and Ensign Vidal has packed my kit. It’s on its way to the Complex as we speak.”

Their first month working at the Complex passed quickly. As with all major projects, the terms of references had to be defined for each department. Then the time and resources allocated to achieve their goals. Engineering had been scurrying as they had the most to accomplish. The ship designers demanded requirements for the NX prototype vessels by the end of May, so construction could commence as soon as they completed their blueprints. It would take almost two years to have the models become a physical reality. In six weeks, Captain Jeffery’s team needed to redesign and cost not only the engine room, but several sub-systems that would be under the control of the Chief Engineer on the experimental craft.

“Where are you now?” Jon asked, glancing at the time on his computer screen and the image behind Trip. They’d left home three hours ago, which meant this decision had been made swiftly.

“Engineering labs, but I need to be on my way to the quartermaster,” Trip responded. “I’ve requisitioned several parts for _Hypatia’s_ plasma injectors and manifold assembly. I want to ensure they’re correct.”

“Don’t tell me,” Jon smirked, knowing where Trip mind was on this one, and thus the reason for the sudden reassignment, “your putting those redesigned upgrades in older engines to try and coax more speed out of the engines?”

“Something like that,” Tucker smirked. “I can’t say more, but I’m hoping this experiment might help get the NX off the ground.”

“Experiment?” Jon asked. He’d heard all about Trip last great idea and the fact it ended with Lt. Tucker’s unexpected journey to Orbital. “You and your great ideas, Trip. The last one only made you late for dinner. What’s the next one going to do? A year space posting?”

Pulling a face, Trip’s obviously wasn’t happy with the sudden, and unexpected reassignment.

“Com me when you’re settled?” Jon asked with a forlorn note in his voice.

Rolling his blue eyes, Trip promised, “you can count on it. Even if it’s the middle of your night, I expect you to get out of bed and talk to me. I’m going to miss you, but I gotta go. Hess, Wang and King are going with me. I’m getting in trouble from the gaggle of Ensign’s for calling my boyfriend. Hey,” Lt. Tucker’s voice echoed, as if he were shouting at the for mentioned group who were heckling him off-screen, “I can’t help it if you lot don’t have someone who’s going to miss the hell out of you.” Trip’s face returned to the monitor. Placing to fingers on his lips, he transferred the kiss to the display in a very theoretical manner. “Love you, Jon.”

“I….” before Archer could express his own emotions, or remind his boyfriend of the rules at work, Tucker had gone. “Love you too, Trip. I’m going to miss you. Hurry home.” Sighing, Jon shook his head, realising that this was now his life. Trip would always be a free spirit, living in the moment but coming home to him. Their careers wouldn’t make it any easier. If they really wanted to be on that first human ship of exploration, it was the price they needed to pay. _Unlike Carl_ , Archer told himself, _Trip will wait for me, just as I’ll wait for him. Three weeks isn’t that long. It could have been a ship going to Pluto, not Mercury. Let’s just hope, that if we have to spend any significant time posted to space, it’s together._

Turning around, Robinson stood behind Archer, a deepening frown on his face. Not sure how much he’d seen, Jon didn’t like the darkening expression. Obviously, A.G. didn’t like Trip any more than Tucker liked the cocky pilot.

“This has echoes of Carl written all over it. I told him, if he hurt you,” A.G. warned.

“I don’t like it either,” Jon’s expression demonstrated his disappointment, “but Lt. Tucker needs the time in an engine room if he’s to be of any use to his team. If I read Captain Jeffery’s correctly, there’s going to be a lot of sudden, short term postings in the next few months. We’re both in Starfleet and that means going where we’re ordered. Lt. Tucker and I both understood this would occur at some point.”

“How can you do that?” Robinson asked. When Jon shot him a glance that asked what, A.G. responded. “You call him Trip when you’re talking about your boyfriend, and Lt. Tucker at work, as if they’re two separate people.”

“I have too,” Jon asserted. “I have to compartmentalise the individual from the professional. At home I have Trip. He’s just a kid, in so many ways and we’re learning more about each other every day. I don’t think he’ll ever really grow up. It’s not in his nature. Lt. Tucker is a professional, a man with better qualifications than you and I will ever have. Lt. Tucker’s been posted to _Hypatia_ to get some real engine room experience. It’s only three weeks and it’s going to change him in ways he hasn’t even considered, yet. I just hope I get my Trip back.”

“You are so gone,” Robinson exhaled, finally understanding the Adonis causing Jon to get shitfaced almost a year ago had become a reality. Unlike Archer other lovers, Jon knew Tucker for months before carefully entering into a relationship. Jon was usually the one to move in with his partner, not invite a boyfriend to share his space. It was easier to leave that way. Obviously, Archer had no intention of letting Tucker go. “I don’t think you were this far gone with Carl.”

“I know I wasn’t,” Jon allowed a grin to cover his face, “but don’t you dare tell Trip. And stop mentioning Carl. I got over him a long time ago.”

“I hope you’re not planning what I think you are. I can’t be the only single pilot on the team,” A.G. mocked, before a look of absolute horror overtook his features.

“I’ve been warned,” Jon threw over his shoulder as he walked away, “not to ask for a few years, even if Tuckers tend to get married in their early twenties. Knowing Trip, he’ll get impatient before then and do the asking himself.”

“Shit,” Robinson watched his friendly rival leave with a shocked expression. “Who the hell am I supposed to drink with if Archer gets hitched. Not that he’s all that available, being at his toy boy’s beck and call. Face it, Robinson, you’re getting old.”


	19. Hess: Friday 4th April 2141

“I know I only got back early Wednesday morning and we got a full weekend planned, but the engineering departments going out for drinks,” Trip announced when they met for lunch in the commissary.

“Tonight?” Archer asked, more than a little disappointed.

They hardly got any time together, and that was before Trip’s space posting. The first month Jon blamed their demanding schedules. The sudden off world assignment screwed up their weekends altogether during the second. He knew Trip was scheduled for another ship posting in the near future, placing more strain on their relationship. Besides, they were due in Florida for Lizzy’s birthday lunch Sunday. It had been put off a week so Trip would be there, and Jon could go out with his water polo buddies.

The aviation team usually met at the 602 on a Friday night. Trip joined them with the intention of staying for a single drink, thereby avoiding Robinson company as much as possible after their showdown. Once they got home, Tucker continued on to the building’s weekly social mixer for an hour, catching up with the gossip as often as possible. He’d managed to drag Jon along once. Archer went, not because he enjoyed the company, but to at least spend a little time with his lover.

Like it or not, his boyfriend was a very popular individual who just had to be in the middle of whatever was going on. After four weeks living together, there wasn’t a person in their building who didn’t know Trip. Last week, Captain Smith grabbed Jon off the transport and coerced him into attending the building’s social, demanding to know where Lt. Tucker had gone. Scuttlebutt said he’d been assigned to a vessel. They were incredibly sympathetic but Jon just wanted to go home and wallow in self-imposed misery. The week before being posted to _Hypatia_ , Trip agreed to baby sit for the Captain, so she could take her husband out for a romantic anniversary dinner. He hadn’t been happy at the imposition. At least he’d got to spend the evening with Trip after the kids were in bed.

Jon had never really been in close contact with children before. Watching Trip’s mix of playful discipline, Archer wondered if it would be so bad to consider the possibility in the distant future, especially if Tucker did most of the parenting. It was a startling realisation, that he’d never been settled enough within himself, let alone with another person to really reflect on what he wanted beyond, as Trip would say, ‘making his daddy’s engine fly’. Archer found the picture of coming home to a husband and a couple of kids a distinct possibility, after he’d achieved his career goals.

“Unlike the Fly Boy’s,” Trip mocked, wondering where Jon’s mind went. He had a vacant look in those hazel eyes which snapped back the moment Tucker spoke. “We only do this every couple of months, usually to celebrate something. It’s Hess’s birthday and we just got back from an assignment that went better than expected. You know, most of the team have significant others, a few have kids and can’t get a weekly leave pass.”

“When,” Jon didn’t attempt to hide his annoyance, “and where?”

“I talked them into a place around the corner from the 602,” Trip frowned. “You could be a little happier about it, Jon. It’s not like this is a weekly thing, and you’re not the only significant other invited. Not that they’ll stay long, in spite of the reputation Engineers have for drinking, most of them will want to get home to their families. I you really want to join Robinson and Duval later, we can.”

“Trip, I wanted to go to our home and spend some time with you,” Jon responded with more heat in his tone than he’d anticipated. “You’ve been gone three weeks and we have plans for the whole weekend. I just wanted to sit on the couch, my arm around you and watch a vid.”

“So that’s what that look was about?” Trip smirked wolfishly. “Hey, it’s not my fault Commodore Forest wouldn’t give you Wednesday off so we could stay in bed and make up for lost time. How about we don’t stay late, pick something up from that family place around the corner and have an early night.”

“No building social?” Jon queried with the hint of a smile starting.

“Promise I’ll just pop up, let them all know I’m back and that I’ve got an anxious boyfriend who hasn’t seem me for a while wanting some personal attention,” Tucker teased.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Archer mock scowled.

Letting out a chuckle, Trip stated emphatically, “well, I would, if the look on your face is anything to go by. You know, I missed you too, Jon, and I plan to make up for lost time.”

“Right and when did you get time to miss me, Trip,” he groused good naturedly. “From the sound of it, you spent most of your time recalibrating the warp engine to accept the new plasma injectors. You managed to spare me ten or fifteen minutes a day, and usually at 0430.”

“That’s because I bunked in the Captain’s mess and couldn’t get the com time without someone listening in,” Trip stated. “It was a night mare. _Hypatia_ must be one of the oldest ships in the fleet. The Captain is the only one with quarters to himself and even they’re closet sized. Hess, Wang and King had to bunk in with the regular crew and hot bed it. There wasn’t even a spare Lieutenant’s berth, so I had to sleep around the Captain’s meal times. I kind of had nothing but work to do, if I didn’t want to get under anyone’s feet.”

Shaking his head, Lt. Tucker picked up his PAD and sent the address to Jon. Shovelling in the last bit of his sandwich, Trip briefly touched Archer on the forearm. “I’ll see you tonight, Jon. If I don’t get my butt moving, we’re not going to be finished on time and that’s going to make you even more grumpy, old man.”

“Enough with the old man comments,” Jon grumbled, only to be treated to Trip’s joyful chuckle close to his ear.

“Prove that to me, tonight,” Tucker teased.

Muttering softly under his breath as he stood, Commander Archer’s mind wouldn’t return to the schematics for the NX alpha cockpit when he got back to his work station. He’d missed coming home and hearing Trip over the last three weeks. He’d missed a warm body in his bed at night. He’d missed all the little physical touches, touches he didn’t even realise were such a large part of their daily lives. The last two nights, Archer found himself pulling his lover closer, to the point Trip complained when he needed to get up and go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

“I ain’t going anywhere, Jon,” Trip mumbled sleepily, attempting to peel away his lovers’ arms, “but you’re going to be changing sheets if you don’t let me up.”

_I don’t think I really understood what we have, until it was taken away_ , Jon fumed, angered that his private life was interfering with his work. _As the current Starfleet craft are retrofitted with Trip’s plasma injector/manifold assembly, he’s going to be doing more space time. It has the added advantage of pleasing the Vulcan’s with his incredible mind out of the way. Engineering won’t really be needed until the internal construction of the prototypes in progress. That’s almost a year away._

Jon’s mood didn’t improve throughout the afternoon as these thoughts ruminated in the back of the Commander’s mind. Duvall got earful when he asked if Tucker would join them at the 602 after work. It was the mocking tone that got under Archer’s skin. Gardiner just shook his head and warned the pilots not to antagonise their youngest team member. He understood the rigors of a Starfleet career all to well, as did his long-suffering wife and their children.

“I know that look,” Robert Gardiner stated, delight playing about his brown eyes. “I just hope that boyfriend of his knows what he’s in for. Archer can be one crabby SOB when he’s riled.”

“What,” Duval asked, “do you thinks got him so worked up.”

“Between you and me,” Gardiner guessed, “Tucker’s become the golden boy on Jeffery’s team. I heard the Captain talking with Rear Admiral Leonard last week. It seems his team has been tasked with retrofitting the entire fleet with new engine parts by the end of the year. The Admiral wanted Tucker to oversee the project personally.”

Snickering, A.G. nabbed Archer’s PAD when he left his desk, intending to find out what caused the foul mood. He couldn’t be happier with Tucker spending so much time away from his rival. It meant Robinson had a drinking buddy and a wing man. Locating the time and address of the Engineering teams gathering, he decided to join them. Showing the other pilots, Gardiner declined to crash the party.

“It can only end in disaster,” he warned his younger team mates. Not that either of them would listen when they were up to some mischief.

Half a block from the 602 stood an old English styled pub called Wheelwrights. A fire roared in the hearth, low wooden beams formed the ceiling and the furniture was rustic. A table in the corner had been reserved for the Starfleet Engineering Core. It was half filled by the time Commander Archer walked in with a mixture of Starfleet personal and their significant others in civilian clothing.

“Come and join us,” a rather well-endowed woman rushed over. Her uniform didn’t do her stature, or figure, justice. Short, hair a wire, she only came up to Jon’s chest. One blue eye, the other brown, the Ensign stuck her hand out. “Christina Hess.”

“Jon Archer,” he offered, looking anywhere but at the woman’s rather unusual, and prominent, anatomy. Catching’s Trip’s eye, the Commander knew he’d been set up by his boyfriend. Tucker sat amongst a group in civilians and a Lt. Commander, who Jon guessed must be Wu. It seemed Trip was doing his usual social thing and gathering anyone new around him. Mouth going a mile a minute, the laughter soon followed. “It’s nice to finally put a name to the face, Hess. Trip’s talked a lot about you.”

“I bet he has,” she smirked, “and none of it good. Now don’t try and be a gentleman and defend that reprobate. We’ve all be on the end of one of Tucker’s jokes. Come on, let’s get you introduced around, seeing as Tucker’s busy arguing the merits of his latest idea with Wu and his wife. She’s an engineer as well, on maternity leave. I see you got that by the size of her stomach. Besides, everyone knows your Henry Archer’s son and want’s an introduction.”

Archer, it seemed Jon would just have to get used to being called by his surname with this group, soon found himself recanting tales of his father with a smile on his face. The recollections didn’t hurt as much as he thought they would when the people listening hung on his every word. A beer appeared in Jon’s hand and the insatiable appetite of the engineers kept him busy. Hess remained at his side, guiding Archer around the table and refilling his drink. Within an hour, many of the older and senior officers left. That’s when Duval and Robinson decided to crash the party.

“Don’t look now,” Trip pushed his way between Ensign King and Jon, “but troubles arrived.”

“I didn’t tell them,” Archer defended himself, shooting a troubled glance at Tucker.

“Hess,” Trip warned, “play nice.”

“Is that the sonofabitch you were telling me about?” she demanded. “The one who tried to put the hard word on you even though he knew you were with Archer.”

“Yep,” Trip stated with rancour. “Not that I let him get to the proposition phase. I love this old man too much to go looking elsewhere.”

If Jon’s look could have killed, Tucker would have been popping up daisies. Not only had Trip used the L word at a Starfleet function, he’d managed to get ‘Old Man’ into the sentence as well. “Paybacks a bitch,” Archer whispered. He knew the moment Trip heard by the paling of his skin.

“I know the type,” Hess smiled evilly, watching the byplay between both sets of men. She could see the deep adoration emanating off Tucker and Archer and had little intention of letting those interrupting pilots causing them harm. Trip let more slip on _Hypatia_ than intended, due to the amount of time they’d spent in each other company. If Tucker didn’t like or trust Robinson, believing him to be resentful of his relationship with Archer. “Leave him to me. I’ll have him written up on charges before you can finish your beer.”

“Hess,” Jon warned mildly, knowing he had to use diplomacy, if he wanted this to stay civil. “A.G. Robinson,” he pointed out the pilot, “is a Commander. He is good at his job even if his personality is a little perturbing. As Trip said, play nicely.”

“Give the man enough rope,” Trip added mockingly, earning him a glare from Jon, “and he’ll hang himself.”

Huffing, Hess waited until the man approached. It took Robinson thirty seconds to get the dressing down of his life for very deliberately and obviously checking out Ensign Hess’s over developed assets. “You could have warned me,” A.G. looked at Tucker with furious glower.

“Now where’s the fun in that, Alasdair Gilliasbuig,” Trip took a sip from his long neck in order to hide his reaction. He knew exactly why Robinson singled him out, but Tucker felt Hess had every right to put down the cocky pilot with his ungentlemanly behaviour.

Spluttering, A.G. turned his accusing glare on Archer.

“If the boot fits,” Jon really tried to stop the corners of his lips curling upwards. It wasn’t often a woman got the best of A.G., and Trip’s come back was the icing on the cake.

“Thanks for nothing,” Robinson grumbled as he marched towards the bar in search of a stiff drink. “I really thought having a Starfleet boyfriend would improve you, Archer. Seems to have worked the other way!”

“You’re going to pay for that, Trip,” Jon stated, an evil glint in his eye that made promises for later. “From both A.G. and me!”

“It was worth it,” Tucker lent towards Archer and whispered into his ear, “especially if it got you all riled up.

“Hate to break up the party,” Wu sighed, looking at the diminishing crowd before turning his eyes on the woman at his side, “but we have to get home. I’ve been late every night this week.”

“Me too,” Duvall agreed with an expressive roll of his eyes. “Just wait until the pregnancy hormones kick in. I couldn’t wait for my son was born, now all I got to look forward to interrupted sleep.”

“I’ll be there in a few months,” Wu smirked, placing a hand over his wife’s slightly rounded belly, “again!”

“Now I get the reason for the lecture when we were stuck on Orbital,” Trip joined in the good-natured teasing. “Congratulations, Commander.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Wu dead panned, “I’m not sure if commiserations would be a better, Lieutenant. This will be our fourth and my wife want’s a girl this time.”

Wearing a very put-upon expression, Wu’s wife shook her head. “More like daddy want’s a little girl to spoil.”

“I’m thinking it’s time Jon and I joined you, Commander,” Trip looked at Archer. Robinson was in one of those moods, meaning he’d return to the 602 and most probably stay until closing trying to pick up some entertainment for tonight. Tucker didn’t want any part of that.

“Coward,” Jon responded.

“Better that than a dead hero. Besides, you were the one who wanted some alone time,” Trip fired back before they clinked their drinks and drained them. Offering a goodnight to the young crowd that had settled in, the last of the senior officers departed for the transport station.

“You know,” Jon smirked once they were seated on the shuttle back to their building, “you could have warned me about Ensign Hess. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman that top heavy. How the hell does she stay upright?”

“I though you gave up on woman in high school,” Trip commented, somewhat astonished.

“I might be into men, Trip,” Jon responded with amusement, “but I’m not blind. It would be hard for anyone to miss that rack when you’re blindsided by them. Besides, it doesn’t hold a candle to your arse, and after the way you played me tonight, I intend doing a lot with that enchanting rear end when we get home.”

“Promises, old man,” Tucker teased.

Without warning, Jon managed to wedge his hand under his boyfriend and pinch said posterior. Trip managed to hold back a startled yelp. “Don’t call me old man again, Trip, or I might just slip and call you baby.”

Shaking his head, Trip managed to keep his delighted smile internalised. Happy Jon was finally showing his carefree side, he hoped the playfulness would last until they got home. Dinner could wait. As to the building social, there was always next week. Tucker had every intention of drawing out what they’d started, for as long as he could.


	20. Moving: Sunday 4th June to Friday 4th April 2141

“No,” Trip’s answer was definitive.

Retuning empty handed from their new bedroom into the living room, Tucker picked up another carton from the pile at the door. They’d finally received an upgraded apartment. Unfortunately, it was on a higher level and south facing, meaning a panorama of the valley from the windows in the main rooms. Jon was not impressed and wanted to wait until a Lieutenant grade habitation came available, with an obstructed view of the bay, even if they had to be on a lower floor with slightly less space.

“Trip,” Archer stood with hands on hips, his pose displaying his displeasure, “how many guests do we get? I’ll tell you, in the last ten weeks, not one person has come to stay.”

“That’s not true,” Tucker responded as he trotted past. “Mama wouldn’t put us out of our bed and there’s no way I’m having my mother sleep on the couch. We need a guest bedroom, Jon. You are not turning it into a private study, even with a pull-down bed. Besides, you snore.”

“Oh, I do, do I?” he demanded, starting to get really aggravated.

“There’s some nights you sound like your cutting wood,” Trip stated, heading back the way he came. “You’re so loud, I can hardly get any sleep.”

“How the hell would you know?” Jon insisted. “You’ve been spending two weeks a month on some vessel or the other, upgrading the entire fleet by yourself.”

“And when I get home,” Trip fired back, “you strangle me with affection. Hell, I can’t even get out of bed in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom without you tightening your hold. I told you, Old Man, I ain’t going anywhere, accept our new apartment.”

Following his boyfriend, Archer found his temper rising and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about it. He didn’t want to move, at all, but understood they needed more space. They were falling over each other on the rainy weekends in his old apartment. When this place came up, Trip inspected and took it without conferring with Jon. He was still more than a little salty about Tucker making a unilateral decision. He wanted a view of the bay, or at least water. Their living and dining room both looked out over buildings all the way to the valley.

Stopping, absolutely stunned as he entered the room that would become their boudoir, Archer’s mouth dropped open.

“I gather you like,” Trip gave that shit eating grin he did so well when he’d deliberately misled Jon. “I know it’s the ‘little’ bedroom and we don’t have the en-suite bathroom, but I think that’s worth it.”

“You waited how any months to get be back for the comment at your party?” Jon’s wide, delighted eyes took in the panoramic view from the corner window.

“Yep,” Trip gave another expressive smirk. “As you guessed, this rooms on the corner of the building, so it gets a water aspect,” Trip explained, coming to stand beside Jon and throwing an arm around his shoulders. “I thought it would be a good compromise, being able to wake up to that on our days off. We might even stay in bed for a while and enjoy the view. I appreciate that you didn’t really want to give up your apartment, that you did it for me.”

Sighing, Jon understood, “but you wanted a place that was ours, rather than mine.”

“I won’t deny it,” Tucker agreed. “I also wanted enough room not to ‘trip’ over you.”

“Ha, ha, Trip. Why don’t we have Pieter and Lee over for dinner next weekend,” Jon suggested. “It’s not like we don’t have the room. Actually, I rather like the idea of a dining room and not just a table in the corner of the kitchen.”

“Kitchen’s bigger too,” Tip added. “Just wait until you see it.”

Thinking about the conformation of the apartment, Jon suddenly realised if the kitchen had a window, it would also have a glimpse of the water. The two rooms in which Archer spent most of his off duty hours met his ideals. “I suspect I know why you took this place without consulting me.”

“You would have seen that view from the living room and your mood would have gone south,” Trip agreed. “There would have been no talking you into it afterwards, no matter how much I wanted this.”

“So, Pieter and Lee?” Jon asked, his disposition definitely on the up. “We’ve never had the room to have them over.”

“What are you cooking?” Trip chuckled. “If it’s that risotto you did the other night, squid ink, I’m sure I can talk them into it. I’ll get Lee to do his pandan cake for desert. But it’ll have to be Friday night. You’ve got a date on Saturday.”

Nodding in agreement, Jon was meeting his water polo buddies for an exhibition match at Stanford, followed by dinner and drinks. He wasn’t sure what they’d do now the water polo season had finished. One thing Archer did know he, didn’t want to give up the monthly outing.

“The weekend after?” Jon suggested.

“Nope,” Trip’s eyes clouded over, knowing his next words would kill the mood. “Grandpa’s birthday. So, it will have to be Friday, it they’re free. Week after I’ll probably be gone for ten to twelve days, depending on which ship I get assigned.”

Muttering under his breath, Jon slumped onto the bed. Trip soon followed. Now Tucker had Archer where he wanted him, it didn’t take long to remove their clothing and improve his disposition. “Supplies?” came the question when Jon finally managed to break the kiss and come up for air.

“First thing I put away. Top draw,” Trip stated, “and don’t you dare take too long. We need to christen our new place.”

Grinning, Archer easily located what he was looking for. Tucker might still need an evil glare occasionally with respect to his clothing on the bathroom floor and putting the cap on the tooth paste, but with somethings he was excruciatingly obsessive. Supplies, like his desk in the Engineering department at the Complex, were arranged to specification and best of luck to anyone who messed up his system. Trip knew if anything had been moved so much as a micrometre.

Pulling the bottle out of Archer’s still hands, it seemed Trip was in the mood for to let Jon take the lead but not take too long about it. While Tucker was more likely to start their intimacy, he let Archer know, undeniably, if he wanted to be in charge from the first touch. Right now, Trip just wanted Jon’s hands on him, in him. Nudging Archer along with all the subtlety of a brick, Tucker squeezed gel onto Jon’s warm, waiting palm. Smirking, Archer decided he’d reward Trip for agreeing to this apartment by taking thing very, very slowly. While it might frustrate his love, in the end, they’d both win.

“Happy Birthday,” Trip’s breathlessness almost spoiled the moment. The sky was becoming lighter as dawn approached. The sun wouldn’t appear for another hour. The bay outside their window slowly woke as the illumination increased. Tucker learnt to love the mornings in their new apartment, his boyfriend’s arms wrapped around him.

“Is that what your little display was all about. It’s 0500,” Jon returned, pulling his lover closer. “We have to get up soon.”

“I already had you up,” Trip retorted with a snicker of pride, “twice. No point wasting the next half hour. Join me in the shower for the rest of your present.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Jon muttered under his breath but slowly started moving. Slowly because he wanted to see Trip prancing around their bedroom butt naked. It did things for his libido that should be criminal.

“You’re only thirty,” came the response from the other side of the room. “Get your arse out of bed, Old Man. I got plans for it and you today.”

Groaning, Archer wondered what he ever did to deserved falling in love with a randy twenty something year old. By the time his shift at the complex was over, all Jon wanted was a few quiet drinks before heading home for an even more quiet evening with Trip. Skipping the drinks would be even better, but he didn’t think Robinson and Duval would let him get away with that. Thankfully no one on his team seemed to understand it was his birthday, or the significance of this particular anniversary. It was Friday, and as far as most people knew, a normal day. That’s just the way Jon like to spend his birthday, especially such a milestone. Sometime on the couch before bed sounded like the best present Trip could offer.

“Nothing planned?” A.G. asked, watching Jon pack up his desk.

“Should I have?” Archer returned, raising an eyebrow. At that moment he knew something was off. Robinson had waited all day to spring this on him. Jon just hoped Trip didn’t know anything about whatever the pilots had in stall. If he did, Archer could only imagine what those two minds would get up to together.

“I have orders from your Adonis,” Robinson’s expression became blank.

“Please tell me Trip hasn’t planned a party?” Jon groaned.

“Okay, I won’t,” A.G. stated, unable to hide the glee, which told Archer exactly what to expect.

“I’m going to,” Jon started an angry triad, only to be stopped by Robinson’s expression. A.G. might have promised to get Archer home, but it didn’t look like the pilot would play by Trip’s rules. Sometimes the animosity between the two of them was so thick you could cut it with a knife. No closer to finding out why, the Commander decided to play this a completely different way. “Do you know he woke me up at 0400 to give me his ‘present’.”

Robinson didn’t say a word. His expression, however, gave Archer a clue.

“Once wasn’t enough,” Jon continued, shaking his head and rather enjoying the green complexion on Robinson’s face. They’d never really discussed the intimate details of Archer’s relationships, even though A.G. was open enough with his conquests. Clapping his friendly rival on the shoulder and crowing, “no, we had another go around and then again in the shower.” Robinson expression changed, subtly and Jon began to form an idea of what might be wrong. “I tell you, A.G., you should try for someone younger. The stamina and flexibility. What that man can’t do isn’t worth talking about.”

Glaring, the pilot wasn’t so cocky. In fact, he looked rather green, both with envy and aversion.

_Bingo_ , Archer didn’t bother hiding his delighted smirk. “Any one would think you hadn’t gotten any for a while with that scowl. Trolling on your own not working out so well?”

“Shut up,” Robinson growled. “I have to get you on a transport and home. You’re Adonis wouldn’t tell me why.”

Rolling his eyes, Jon knew, only too well, what Charles Tucker was capable of achieving if his put his mind to it. Now that he thought about it, the board between the door and coat rack was empty. That should have been Archer’s first clue.

_Didn’t Trip say I was expected to go to Florida for dinner on my birthday_ , Jon groaned inwardly. _I thought the oversight due to Trip arriving home from his last posting on Tuesday. Hell, he had Wednesday off. That’s more than enough time for him to organise something. That is_ , a sense of dread overcame Archer, _if he hasn’t been planning this for weeks! What have I gotten myself into!_

Twenty minutes later, Jon had been directed to the room where the usual Friday night building socials were held. Shoved into a bathroom and told to change into the civilian clothing hanging behind the door, it seemed Trip booked the place and planed this to the last detail. A few of the residents Jon knew well dropped by to wish him a happy birthday, Capt. Smith and her husband among them. Colleagues from the Complex, friends and the Tucker family made up the main crowd.

“I invited Max,” Trip told Jon, when the older man continued to look for someone after exiting the bathroom. Although many Starfleet officers attended, Tucker felt he could casually sling an arm around his boyfriends’ hips as this was a private party. He wasn’t about to let Jon escape when everyone wanted to celebrate with him. “I know you consider him a mentor and the closest person you have to family. The Commodore didn’t feel attending was appropriate with so many junior officers. He helped me plan this after telling me you haven’t had a real birthday party since your mom passed. I wanted this one to be special for you. So, we’re going to the Forest house for dinner next weekend.”

Nodding, Jon swallowed, hard. This was just such a Trip thing to do, to consider the emotional repercussion that came with a lack of real family. “Thank you,” Archer managed before locking lips. Breaking apart at the crowd cheering, Jon caught Tucker’s blue eyes and fastened them on his. “I love you.”

“I know you do,” Trip’s face lit up with pleasure. “The feeling mutual, Old Man.”

Rolling his hazel orbs, Jon growled, “enough with the Old Man!”

Laughing, Tucker moved them towards the first group. A drink appeared in Jon’s hand as he spent a few moments with Capt. and Mr. Smith. Several other neighbours drifted over before Trip expertly moved them on. He could work a crowd better than anyone Jon knew.

“What has Hess done with herself,” Archer attempted to covered his shocked expression when he captured a look at the crowd, which had grown significantly in the last quarter of an hour.

It seemed Trip had thought of everything. His water polo buddied dropped in for an hour after work and they were the next target. Most of the Aviation team were drinking by the ceiling to floor window. They were facing off with several of Tucker’s Engineering brethren. Charlie Tucker had Lt. Commander Wu and his wife entranced in a deep conversation, all being engineers. Hess, looking more feminine than he’d ever expected possible, held her own with Alice and Lizzy. Pieter and Lee mingled, meeting many of Jon and Trip’s friends for the first time. Currently, they were obviously talking shop with Major and a heavily pregnant Dr. O’Shea.

“Mama,” Trip’s baby blues shone with surprise. “Hess came early to help me get everything ready. Mama took one look at her and said, ‘a girl with your assets needs to display them to best advantage’. Then my mother yelled that she was taking Hess shopping and disappeared with both my sisters, leaving Jamie, Rory and Dad to help me set all this up. Well, you’re looking at the result.”

“Who would have thought,” Robinson managed to blind side the lovers, “a comb, a dress and some advice could change a person that much. I’m not sure anything but a muzzle would help the mouth.”

Feeling Trip bristle at his side, Jon slung an arm around his boyfriend shoulders to stop the situation from degenerating further. “You know, some people are just the envious type,” he offered as if A.G. weren’t standing beside them. “Can’t stand to see others happy and getting some.”

“That’s what happens,” Tucker agreed, understanding where Archer’s thoughts tended, “when you’re constantly playing the field. When you finally meet someone, they only think you’re after a good time. You know, I’ve seen the way Hess looks at Wang. This change might just give him the courage to finally ask her out on a date and her the self-confidence to accept. He’s been sweet on her for months but is afraid. The only ones who don’t get it are Wang and Hess.”

“The course of young love never did run smooth,” Jon mocked, before a stray though entered his mind. “Say, Trip, where are your family staying tonight?”

“In our apartment,” the younger man answered with a completely straight face. “Except Rory and Vicky. I managed to get them a studio in the building for the night. I thought it would make it easier for them, with my sister’s due date approaching. Why, is that a problem?”

“Not really,” Jon responded carefully. He’d hoped to continue a more private celebration over much of the weekend. _Looks like that options out. I have no idea where we’re going to fit four extra people, but I guess Trip’s got that worked out, just like everything else._

“Come on Jon, this is your party and it’s time to celebrate,” Trip lent in and pecked Archer on the cheek. “The food should be out soon. We’ll cut the cake about ten. Then I’m going to give you your official present and hopefully people will get the message and start going home.”

Three hours later, Jon knew he’d been played once again. While Alice, Charlie, Lizzy and James were staying in their home for the weekend, they’d organised the room at a nearby resort for Jon’s gift. As the celebration came to an end, the crowd saw the birthday boy and his partner of almost six months off on their first romantic getaway in a private transport.

“Tired,” Trip asked, holding a flute of Champaign above the bubbles of their hot tube in the honeymoon suite overlooking half moon bay.

“Exhausted,” Jon responded. He’d been glad the bath was full and awaiting them after being led straight to their palatial suite. The butler took care of their check in, needing only their Starfleet ID’s. He’d then withdrawn quietly with in knowledge he wouldn’t be needed further this evening. “Your parents sure know how give a gift.”

“I got a better one. Max gave you two days off,” Trip slipped into the conversation. “I managed to talk Jeffery’s into matching leave with all the hard work over the last few months. So, we don’t need to be back until Tuesday evening. I don’t intend to get out of that bed anytime tomorrow.”

“Sound’s perfect to me,” Jon managed an exhausted chuckle. “Trip, I don’t think I ever had a birthday like this one. Thank you.”

“Don’t go expecting it every year,” Tucker warned, pulling his lover close, “not on Starfleet wages anyway.” He’d never tell Jon about his share in the business, or his ‘trust’ fund, unless the relationship became official with the possibility of adding to their family. Kissing the back of his boyfriend’s neck, Jon sighed. “Tomorrow,” Trip promised, “we’re going to use this tub for more than soaking.”

“Promise,” Archer mumbled, almost asleep.

“You can count on it, Old Man,” Trip smiled.

“I’ve warned you enough times, Babe,” Jon responded, moving suddenly. He’d discovered quite by accident, that Tucker was particularly sensitive just below his shoulder blades. Turning and removing their glasses to the side of the tub, he found just the spot he sought. Rewarded with Trip’s moan of pleasure, Archer whispered “I’m am not that old. I think it is time I proved it to you, Babe. Experience beets youth any day.”

An hour later, and completely boneless, Trip looked at Jon with amazement. His hazel eyes filled with triumph, Archer didn’t think he had the energy to move a mussel. “So, Babe?”

“Shut up Old Man,” Trip shook his head. “Tell me, how the hell are we going to get out of of this tub?”

“I guess we’ll negotiate getting to bed together,” Jon snickered. It took some time, but eventually they managed the herculean task.

It was well past noon the next day before either Jon or Trip opened their eyes. Beyond the floor to ceiling glass windows, lay a magnificent view of the ocean. By mutual and unspoken agreement, they decided to explore the magnificent grounds hand in hand. Seated over a seafood meal that night, a soft breeze blowing the smell of salt air into the open dining room, Jon made a life altering decision. He was going to ask Trip to marry him. He didn’t know when or how, but Jonathan Archer knew he couldn’t go the rest of his life without Charles Tucker at his side.


	21. Changes: Wednesday 13th December 2141

Trip looked down at the data on the PADD in his hands, closed his eyes and sighed, heavily. He knew this day was coming, he just hadn’t expected so soon.

_How the hell am I going to tell Jon about this,_ Lt. Tucker wondered resentfully, still working through his feelings _. The three months while he was on Intrepid was hard, and that was before we were sleeping and living together. It’s been nine months since I moved in, now I’m going to be stationed on the Pluto monitoring station for the next six. Not to mention the eight weeks transit time either way. Keeping our relationship on the right track has been hard enough with all the retrofitting and spending half my time off planet. These orders are not going to go down well._

“Something wrong, Lieutenant?” questioned Captain Jeffery’s with a malicious grin. He’d never stopped riding the younger man, understanding this first posting would set the tone for Tucker’s behaviour for the remainder of his career. Allowing Commander Wu to become Trip’s friend, meant the Captain had to play the tyrant. A role he liked a little too well at times.

“No, Sir,” Trip stated, holding back his emotions by a thread while handing off the PAD. “Looks like you’re getting your heart’s desire, Sir.”

“I beg your pardon?” Jeffery’s asked sharply, realising something was very wrong from the lack of vitality in those clear blue eyes.

“New orders,” Trip stated, shocked. He’d suspected the grouchy old officer planned this. The outraged reaction on reading his orders stated Tucker had been in error. “I thought you’d arranged this posting to Pluto next week.”

“I haven’t authorised any changes in my teams’ personnel,” the Captain grumbled. Arron’s rage soon became real when he realised where this posting originated. “I know I’ve been hard on you Lieutenant. My goal was to bring you into line with Starfleet rank and file after the academic life and rapid promotions. It was necessary you learn to follow orders if you want to go anywhere in this organization. This, this is a travesty and waste of talent. With me Tucker,” he ordered, not hesitating for a heartbeat. They marched through the Complex, double time, arriving at Admiral Black’s office without another word. Not waiting for the Personal Assistant to announce them, Jeffery’s barged into the Complex’s Commandant’s inner sanctum. Fists slamming on the desk, his body vibrating with fury, the Captain demanded, “explain why you’ve ordered my staff around without my knowledge or consent.”

Admiral Black glared back, his lips curing into a grim smirk. “Guess,” he sneered, triumph radiating from his sparkling orbs.

“Vulcan’s,” Jeffery’s parroted, shocked to his very core. Although with hind sight, he should have seen this coming. They’d been controlling the NX program and the Complex for years, he realised, through Admiral Black. Arron hadn’t expected an individual to be targeted. It wasn’t the Vulcan’s usual _modem operandi_ , although, with Lt. Tucker’s history and the NX project moving into a new phase, he understood the reason.

“Laval,” Trip spat, shaking his head as understanding finally dawned. “I should have guessed. This has his stench all over it. Sending me to Pluto is just getting me out of the way so I can’t work on any more upgrades. Well, I have news for him and it’s all bad.”

Jeffery’s gave his subordinate a quelling look. Understanding immediately, Tucker went off on another tangent. Admiral Black didn’t need to know he’d trained Hess, Wang and King to retrofit the fleet, or that Trip had several modifications he wanted to incorporate into the NX prototypes, but needed to prove they’d work on current vessels.

“What was it this time, Admiral,” Trip shook his head sadly, recalling other disputes with Ambassador Laval. “Are we moving too fast for those pointy eared devils?” Watching the Black’s reaction, Tucker knew he had the right of it. “The retrofits, they’re afraid we’re going to reach warp 2 before we even get Henry Archer’s engine off the drawing board. We managed to get an old point nine warp drive to one point two just by upgrading the components. Hell, _Hypatia_ never moved so fast. I thought she’d shake apart on the trials. Then I managed to get _Star Gaze_ r cruising at one point eight and that’s supposed to be her top speed. She almost made two on her test flight back to Earth last month.”

“I believe,” Admiral Yamamoto, seated on the couch, finally made his presence known, “you are correct in your suppositions, Lt. Tucker. However, I wouldn’t discuss your theories with your colleagues just yet. Black, have Forest and Archer join us in my office at the Presidio and alert my shuttle pod crew to expect guests. I have something else in mind for Lt. Tucker, a training mission of sorts which will appease our Vulcan allies while enhancing our own interests.”

“Perhaps the conference room,” Admiral Black suggested. He didn’t want to spend the better part of an hour on this matter, when his desk groaned under his workload. The Fleet Commander nodded after careful consideration, the arrangements made quickly and proficiently.

They moved into the larger room. An Ensign from the commissary entered to take drink orders. Admiral Yamamoto ordered for Commodore Forest, before indicating Lt. Tucker should confer Commander Archer’s preference. Waiting had never been Trip’s strong suit. When Jon arrived a few minutes later with Max at his side, Tucker relaxed the instant their eyes met. Both understood something monumental was about to occur.

Taking the delicate cup and saucer handed to him by a steward, Fleet Admiral Neoga Yamamoto moved towards the head of the table. Inviting the others in the room to sit, he continued standing before a picture window. Stirring his beverage twice, he knocked the rim of the cup once and placed the silver spoon on the ornate plate very deliberately. As if preforming an ancient ceremony, he looked to each of the men in the room, locking glances for a moment before moving on. Taking a sip, Neoga balancing the china in one hand and appeared to stare at it.

“Tea, taken in a mug does not taste the same,” he announced easily, as if having a conversation with his friends or family. “The lip is wide, the handle unwieldly and the entire apparatus cumbersome. Bone china, while delicate and requiring considerable care, may give the illusion of weakness, but if treasured, will outlast any ordinary crockery.”

“Sir,” Black offered into the silence. He’d been subject to these parables for years.

Jonathan Archer’s diplomacy training kicked in. He understood the reference, if not he context. Something major was about to happen and it had to do with the Engineering Core attached to the Complex. More specifically, the lowest ranked officer in the room if he didn’t miss his guess. He’d never seen anyone able to upset the Vulcan’s like Trip. That, however, did not account for his presence, which meant Fleet Admiral Yamamoto had to have at least an inkling of their personal relationship and his life was about to be turned upside down.

“There aren’t any engines on Pluto, Sir,” Trip offered with a slight smile, indicating he, also, understood where this was going. Catching Jon’s eye, he attempted a conversation with a glance. It seemed his lover caught the premise but not the exact meaning. “An engineer without an engine to work on is like a Captain without a ship.”

As if he knew the Lieutenant comprehended, Yamamoto nodded in agreement, “exactly, Mr. Tucker.” Unlike other Starfleet flag officers, Neoga did not underestimate this young man. He’d spent a very valuable and insightful hour investigating the Tucker family when the young man first came to the organisations notice. The results had been astonishing, to say the least.

“Do Vulcan’s use mugs, Sir,” Archer asked, finally catching on. It seemed Trip had been ordered to Pluto station but did not want to go. Nor did Captain Jeffery’s wish to release a member of his team, if the look on his face was anything to go by. Commodore Forest, seated to Jon’s left had to hide his smirk behind a hand. “Or do they anticipate the finer things in life?”

“I have never seen a Vulcan enjoy the pleasure,” holding up his elegant Royal Albert cup, Yamamoto took a deliberate sip and allowed a gratifying expression to cover his features, “or refinement of something so beautiful and completely useless in terms of filling its role. It is, perhaps, illogical to specify from which beaker one’s tea is taken. Tea is, after all, served cold and spiced on Vulcan, but it is still tea.”

“If the container is less important than the content,” Jeffery’s chimed in, “may I suggest an alternative to Tucker’s posting.”

“I am, as Lt. Tucker would say, _all ears_ ,” Yamamoto kept his face straight but it was obvious the comment was both a dig at Trip’s accent and a joke aimed at their Vulcan overlords.

“ _Al-Biruni_ will dock at Orbital in early January,” Forest suggested. Both he and Archer had been in the dark, unsure why they’d been summonsed. It seemed Jon expected Trip to be posted anywhere but the Complex, in fact had been expecting it for some months. Archer briefly shared his thoughts as they rushed to the impromptu meeting. It seemed he’d been correct in his suspicions.

“Not quite what I had in mind, Commodore,” Jeffery’s offered with a frown.

“She’s about to be scraped,” Admiral Black stated, rolling his eyes in frustration, “with good reason. The ships out of date, they have limited cargo space and a fifteen-man crew….”

“Exactly,” Yamamoto shook his head and took control of the meeting. Black could be obtuse sometimes and did not take the little details into consideration. He ignored many rumours at his peril. “I have already considered the options and agree this is a good compromise. Quarters will be tight, but I’m sure Commander Archer and Lt. Tucker will not mind sharing. Commander Dlamini and her husband have been co-habiting for quite some time I am told. Even before their marriage to get around the fraternisation regulations. They are reluctant to be reassigned without each other.”

Sighing, Commodore Forest turned his glaze towards the Fleet Admiral. “You’d be surprised how often it occurs, Sir. We’ve lost a lot of good people because of that regulation.”

“I believe I would not,” Yamamoto demonstrated why he’d made his position with his sudden change in body language and tone. “It is an outdated rule that protects very few but the most junior and inexperience among our number. When Henry Archer’s engine becomes a reality and we start on the five-year missions, there will be fraternisation between the crew, whether we like it or not. They will be beyond our sphere of influence. An island of humanity in a vast void of potentially hostile space. The Captain will have to make decisions based on immediate and pertinent facts, not rules and regulations made for an Earth-bound organisation hundreds, or thousands of light years distant. We will have to make it up as we go along, as have many explorers before us, with only our sense of morality and justice to guide us. More harm will come of supressing the crew’s sexuality, than good. It is better we staff that first starship, especially the command crew, with committed couples, able to demonstrate their ability to work in close confines, under trying conditions and able to keep their personal lives out of their professional decisions. On _Al-Biruni_ ,” turning towards Jon, Neoga ensured he had eye contact, “you will be given the opportunity to prove yourself, Commander. To prove you can work with your partner while he holds the lead Engineer’s posting.”

“Aye, Sir,” Archer responded.

“And you,” now facing Trip, the Admiral glared, “may play with her engines as you see fit, so long as _Al-Biruni_ fulfils her orders. I am told necessity is the mother of invention. I do not want you to come back without something to show me. I wish not to ‘keep my shirt on’ as you would say.”

“Yes, Sir,” Tucker’s delight shone through.

“However,” Yamamoto warned, “ _Al-Biruni_ will travel between Earth and Pluto for the next eight months, that is two full circuits with her cargo hold filled so there can be no retribution, not a whisper of the real reason for continuing her service. Commander, you may choose your crew, however consideration should be given to those already serving. Not everyone will wish another assignment and they are good people who know their posts and duties. At the end of our tour, the vessel will be sent to the Jupiter shipyards. After which you will both return to the Complex and oversee the next phase of the NX program. Captain Jeffery’s, I expect monthly reports on any new technology gained from this experiment.”

“Aye, Sir,” Arron nodded. “You’re eyes only?”

“I see we understand one another. Gentleman, something this precious always travels with me,” the Fleet admiral warned in dismissal. The steward came forward with white gloves and took the china before Neoga Yamamoto pivoted and left.

Huffing while sending Trip and Jon a dirty look, Black marched out. The angry scowl on his face demonstrating where is loyalties lay. Starfleet obviously was not his first alliance but he’d been effectively muzzled by Yamamoto. Yet, everyone knew the Vulcan’s would find out eventually.

Jeffery’s, feeling well over his head, stated Lt. Tucker could take the rest of the day off and report to his office tomorrow once he’d sort this out in his head. Walking away, Arron muttered something about being blindsided. Jon and Trip both felt Admiral Yamamoto planned this meeting and the ultimate outcome before Black sent Trip his new orders. Commodore Forest, coming to the same conclusion, indicated Archer should discreetly spent time with his partner and discuss this situation. That left Trip and Jon staring at each other across the table.

“I think this calls’ for a drink,” Trip stated, “even if it’s still the morning.”

“I got a better idea,” Jon couldn’t hold back his delight at the unexpected break. “Let’s get changed into khaki’s. There should be a shuttle leaving for Phoenix/Scottsdale in half an hour. We can catch a transport to the rangers’ station in Tonto National Forest. We’ve been talking about hiking there for months but never gotten around to it.”

A smile lighting his face, Trip agreed. Out in the wild, they could talk without fear of anyone over hearing them. With a little over two weeks before _Al-Biruni_ docked at Orbital and the holiday season, which the Tucker’s celebrated, in between, it wouldn’t leave much time to pack up their life. “Only if we do the Tom’s Thumb trail. It’s about 20 kilometres if we go via Gateway and it’s a difficult grade. I’m sure we can handle the rough terrain.” Although the words came across more as an order than suggestion, Archer didn’t have any real objection.

“Always wanting to push the limits, Babe,” Jon teased. “It’s not like we haven’t faced some rough terrain in this room.”

Slapping Archer on the back, Trip’s smile widened. “I’ll go to the Commissary and get lunch while you pack a rucksack. Meet you at the shuttle in twenty.”

Nodding his agreement, the pair didn’t talk much, or about anything significant until the most difficult part of the trail lay behind them. Before them lay Tom’s Thumb and a magnificent vista over the valley below. Not another person chose to hike on this unseasonably cool day. Stopping to rest and eat lunch, Tucker and Archer were forced to put on their jackets.

“What do you think?” Jon asked, a hand resting on Trip’s shoulder.

“The Vulcan’s want me out of the way,” Tucker answered, realising they could discuss their hopes and fear without carefully choosing their words. After all that’s the reason they came to such an isolated area. “Sure as hell ain’t going to take humanity two hundred years to reach warp five it I’ve got anything to say about it. I’m not sure what their long game is, though.”

“I’m not sure Starfleet does either after today’s meeting,” Jon agreed, “besides slowing us down. I’m still wondering why we’re even allowing them to direct our space program and people like Admiral Black are placing their bets in that direction. What are the Vulcan’s really providing us? What do they have to gain from humanity?”

“I been asking myself those questions for years,” Trip sighed.

“It seems to me,” Jon responded, “the Vulcan’s perceive us as impatient toddlers, wanting to run before we can walk. Yet, look at where their logic has gotten them. Not much further than humanity, but it took them significantly longer.”

Looking up into the sky, Trip asked, “what do you think is out there? I mean the Vulcan’s have been very reluctant to tell us anything about the space beyond our solar system. There has to be a reason.”

“I don’t know,” Jon responded. “But I want to find out. I guess _Al-Biruni_ is our first step in that process. At least we’ll be doing this together. It’s more than I expected.”

“You know,” Trip placed an arm around Archer’s hips and pulled him close, “I didn’t anticipate you to being on this posting with me but I’m glad we can share this, Jon. Going into this relationship, I knew we’d be spending a lot of time apart if we’re going to be on that first ship out of Earth’s home system. Hell, I didn’t expect Admiral Yamamoto to know or care about the fact we’re together. He shocked the shit out of me with our orders, as if he’s had this all planned since the beginning, just to thwart Admiral Black.”

“I think, before we start our next posting,” Jon sounded his younger lover out, “we should make our relationship official.”

“I know that’s what the Admiral was hinting at, Jon, but,” Trip paused, laying his head on Archer’s shoulder and staring blankly at the scenery, “if we do, it has to be because we want it, not for Starfleet’s convenience.”

“Even if it improves our chances of being on the first starship powered by my father’s engine?” Archer asked, his tone not giving away anything.

“Even then,” Tucker responded with a sigh. “I told you, I don’t march to the same beat as the rest of my family. I don’t expect to be married before I turn twenty-five. When, if, I get hitched, it will because it’s the right person at the right time and for the right reasons.”

“And this doesn’t meet your expectations,” Jon couldn’t help feel a little disappointed.

“I love you, Jon, don’t ever think I don’t, more than I ever thought I’d love anyone,” Trip sighed and broke away. Pivoting to face his boyfriend, he added, “it’s not the right time for us and serving on the same ship sure as hell isn’t a good enough reason. We’re at the start of this journey with a very long way to go. We have so much to get through and all of our lives to achieve it. Let’s see how our relationship survives eight months living in quarters the size of a broom cupboard, with you in command and me trying to run an engine room with seven staff. The next eight months, from a logistical point of view isn’t going to be easy, let alone from an emotional one.”

“It’s a test,” Jon agreed. “At least we know going into it.”

“We have to make up some ground rules, before we step aboard _Al-Biruni,_ ” Trip sounded a little lost.

Sighing, Jon recalled their conversation that first day in the Australian desert. He’d laid down the law about their relationship, what to expect while in uniform. Those rules served them well for the last nine months. “I guess it’s time to revisit our expectations,” Jon conceded.

“I don’t think it is,” Trip finally smirked, “it’s just going to be harder. You have to leave the commanding officer at the door to our quarters. There’s going to be little enough room inside for us, let alone any issues we bring inside.”

“So,” Archer reiterated, “professional outside out quarters, no touching or calling each other Old Man and Babe, you’re a Lieutenant and I’ll expect you to obey my orders. All bets off once that door closes. That sound about right?”

“Yep,” Trip responded, becoming serious once again. “Yamamoto’s effectively dangled a carrot and you’re reacting just the way he wants, Jon. We can have our hearts desire and be on the ship powered by your daddy’s engine, but we have to prove we can work and live together, before I’m ready for that kind of commitment. Tucker’s don’t end a marriage so they’re real careful about making life long promises.”

“Come here, you,” Jon cocked a finger. Pleased when Trip fell into his outstretched arms, they stood for several minutes, enjoying the feel of each other. “I’m kind of glad we had this talk.”

“Me too,” Trip pulled away. Taking off the rucksack, Tucker found a flat bit of ground and sat. When Jon joined him, he handed out their lunch. Silence descended as the consumed the sandwiches and fruit. “It’s not that I don’t think we’ll stay together, or even get married one day, Jon,” Trip commented. “I want you to know that.”

“You just need to be sure,” Archer responded, trying to hide his disappointed reaction. “I get that.”

Turning his blue orbs on Jon, Trip’s gaze was piecing. “I’m not sure you do. It’s got nothing to do with what I want and everything to do with conforming to Admiral Yamamoto’s orders. Hell, if I’m going against generations of ingrained Tucker expectation, I’m not going to roll over for Starfleet.”

Absolutely shocked, Jon learnt a very valuable lesson. Trip really didn’t like being forced into anything that went against his very strong, almost ridged moral compass. As his commanding officer, Archer could envision troubled waters ahead, especially as he would soon be the one giving those orders.

“That attitude could make our time on _Al-Biruni_ difficult,” Jon pointed out in the most even voice he could muster. “There are going to be times I have to rely on you to follow orders, even if you don’t like or understand them. There might even come a time I have to discipline you or put a comment in your personnel file.”

“Now you get it,” Trip once again turned those baby blues on Archer. “One step at time, Jon.”


	22. New Year

“Are you sure you can’t stay through to New Years?” Charlie Tucker pleaded with his eldest son. Trip and Jon arrived yesterday, for a week over the festive season. Alice’s British heritage required a decorated Christmas tree and meal shared with close family on the eve of that no longer practiced holiday. Presents, however, were banded. Christmas was, in Mama’s opinion, a time to reconnect with immediate loved ones. “Your mother’s going to be beside herself, with you and Jon posting to space for the next eight months and that’s before learning you won’t be attending the Tucker Barbeque to bring in the new year.”

“Sorry, Dad,” Trip responded in a slightly sorrowful tone. “I really wanted Jon to experience a gathering of over a thousand Tuckers, not that I told him about it because we promised Lee and Pieter we’d meet them in Singapore for a few days.”

“I understand, really I do. I’m not sure your Mama is going to though. I guess you’re attempting to spend time with all your friends,” Charlie asked, managing to hold back a sigh of frustration. The family had seen more of Trip his year than in the four he attended MIT and officer training. His most wayward child managed to make it home for vacation twice and every major birthday as well. Added to that, Jon accompanied his son and the Trip’s parents understood the relationship to be powerful and enduring. However, the pair of Starfleet officers had plans for their future, plans that meant Jon and Trip would spend more and more time away from Earth to make their dreams come to fruition.

“Not really,” sighing, the younger man shook his head. “This is something that’s been organised for a while. Besides, eight months isn’t that long. It’ll be gone before we know it.”

“We’re going to miss another one of your birthdays,” Charlie tried for a stern expression. I came out worried. “And Jon’s. Trip, I can’t help but feel there’s something going on between you and Jon, something you don’t want to tell us about and it’s put a bit of a strain on your relationship.”

“Dad,” Trip whined as he rolled his eyes, “it’s nothing, really. We had a real heart to heart a few days back and it’s put the both of us in a contemplative mood. Working on the same ship will be hard enough without considering the miniscule size of our shared quarters. Jon’s going to be my boss and my boyfriend. We aren’t going to be able to get away from one another for weeks at a time.”

“Don’t tell your mother I said this,” Charlie’s eyes darted around the living room to ensure his wife wasn’t within hearing range. Just to be sure, he moved closer to Trip and lowered his voice. “Marriage is kind of similar. There’s always a boss, and that’s you mother in this relationship. She’s in charge most of the time because I let her be. Makes life easier that way. The trick is making your mother listen when somethings real important to me, so she doesn’t make a unilateral decision that’s just plain wrong.”

“I never would have guessed,” Trip responded sarcastically. Sobering, he considered his father’s words. “Actually, Dad, it’s kind of the same with Jon and me. He’s in charge most of the time, until I put my foot down.”

“Like taking that apartment,” Charlie chuckled, remembering Jon telling the story at his party. He had everyone in fits of laughter.

As if Trip read his father’s mind, he said, “in the future, if things go the way Jon and I plan, it might be years before we return home.”

“I know and that’s what I’m afraid off,” Charlie consoled, his expression betraying him. “Doesn’t mean I have to like your choice of career. And since when did you start calling me Dad?”

That drew a chuckle from Trip. “I guess when I grew up, **_Dad_**.”

“Grew up, ha,” Charlie took a moment to examine his son, only to realise Trip had matured beyond his expectations. “Jon’s been a good influence on you, Trip.”

“I think that goes both ways,” came the goofy answer. “You know I really do love him.”

“I’m sure you do,” Charlie couldn’t help the delighted chuckle that escaped. He’d noticed the relationship deepened beyond his expectations. Jon steadied Trip, while his son brought out Archer’s relaxed side. “Now it’s time to tell you mother about your New Year’s plans. Just let me get out of the house first.”

“Coward,” Trip frowned, watching his father disappear out the front door. Shaking his head, Tucker went to face the lioness in her den. To say she’d be unhappy with his plans was putting too fine a point on it, no matter how he broached the subject.

“Why not invite Lee and Pieter here,” Alice demanded when she heard the disappointing news. “There’s plenty of space now I’ve redecorated you room so you and Jon can used it when you stay instead of the guest room. We’re having an open house New Year’s Eve. Another two makes no difference to me.”

“I’m not supposed to tell,” Trip confessed, lowering his head so his Mama couldn’t read the expression in his eyes. He’d never been able to keep a secret from the family matriarch. And he sure didn’t want to get into the whole commitment thing when things were still a little raw with Jon. “Pieter and Lee are getting married and I’m one of the best men.”

“Oh,” Alice gave her son a suspicious glare. “That all? No other wedding bells in the future?”

_Hell,_ Trip mentally scolded himself, _I should have expected Mama would smell blood and go in for the kill. I had enough trouble convincing Jon it’s not time yet. Mama’s a whole other realm._

Jon, sitting on the back porch, watched Trip converse first with his father and then seek out his mother. They discussed how to approach the senior Tucker’s with the news. Jon had wanted to do it together, but Trip insisted he could handle his parents. Realising it was time to rescue his boyfriend from the expression on his face, Archer quietly entered the kitchen. Slinging a casual arm around Tucker’s shoulders, he could guess at the topic from Alice’s glare and Trip’s embarrassment. A quick kiss on the temple had blue eyes meeting hazel.

“Go for a run, Babe,” Jon advised, his tone making the words an order.

Without another word, the younger man fled. Jon waited until he was sure Trip couldn’t hear them, before turning his eyes on Alice Tucker. “Mama,” Archer started.

“Don’t you Mama me, young man,” she let her displeasure be known.

“Mama,” Jon tried again, this time modulating his tone and reaching out his hands. Placing them on her shoulders, Archer ensured he captured her blue eyes with his determined stare. “We’ve been given the great honour of standing up with Pieter and Lee on New Year’s Eve as witnesses to their marriage. They’ve been dating two years and living together most of that time. They want to see in the next year as partners in life. Trip needs to do this. As he reminded me after our first disagreement, Pieter played a very large part in his acceptance of his sexuality. He feels he owes it to his friend to stand up with him.”

“And when are you going to make an honest man of my son?” The irate matriarch demanded.

Jon couldn’t help himself, he laughed. In doing so, he removed his touch. Catching a furious glare, Archer managed to sober but a smile still played about his lips. “I sounded Trip out a couple of days ago. He’s not ready, Mama, he may never be. And,” shaking a finger warned Alice to remain silent, “I’m not going to push because I respect your son and want to do what is right for him. I get the feeling when Trip makes up his mind I’ll be the first to know and there will be a gold ring on my finger before I catch my breath.”

“He never did play by the family rules,” Alice grumbled. It had a mournful undertone, as if she’d expected this.

“Trip’s one of the most impetuous people I know, but his heart is pure gold,” Jon stated. “He has to make the decision in his own time, for his own reasons. He told me so in no uncertain terms. I won’t lie and tell you it didn’t sting a little. Alice, Trip’s still young, not even twenty-two and I’m eight and a half years older. In some ways, we are at different stages in our lives, but we make it work. In this, I have to give way because I love him too dam much not to hang in until he’s ready.”

“He’s stubborn, just like Grandpa Chuck,” Alice responded.

“I’ve come to see the similarity,” Jon agreed. “I’ll make this promise. If anything happens, you can throw the biggest Tucker family party in history when we visit after the honeymoon.”

“I’ll keep you too that, Jonathan Archer. And then I’ll start on about grandchildren,” she promised. “I’m over fifty and only have one grandson. At least Victoria followed the Tucker plan.”

Rolling his eyes, Jon knew why it was a trait in the Tucker family.

“Archer to Tucker,” Jon hissed. Watching the same starfield for the last two days, Commander Archer’s temper bordered on furious. _Al Biruni_ remained stationary just outside the orbit of the asteroid belt. They should have been half way to Jupiter.

“I know what you’re going to ask,” came the disembowelled voice. “It’s going to be thirty minutes before the impulse engines reboot and at least two hours until we have warp. I’ve finished the upgrades but we’re having trouble getting this bucket to accept them.”

“So, I’ll order the bridge crew to get out and push?” Archer demanded.

“Sorry,” Trip stated, not sounding apologetic at all, “I can’t spare anyone from my engineering team to help, we’ve all been on double shifts since leaving orbital last week. Besides, we don’t have that many EV suits so it looks like your crews on their own in the pushing department.”

“Let me know when we can get moving again,” Jon sounded particularly annoyed. “Archer out.”

Displeased, the Commander couldn’t retreat to his ready room because this glorified cargo carrier didn’t have one. There were no recreational facilities, apart from a small mess that acted as the only social space on the ship. Even then, they had to eat in shifts. He’d lost one of the fifteen-person crew to kitchen and clean up duties in the common areas. Every individual was responsible for maintaining their quarters. Trip’s most recent upgrades meant the engineers were working fourteen to twenty hours a day, so Jon managed a few hours each night in bed with his lover. He couldn’t tell if Lt. Tucker was eating, or living on coffee and cold milk. Trip had a habit losing time when he got in his zone and pushing himself twice as hard as his crew.

Most of the ship capacity had been handed over to freight. The payload would keep the Pluto monitoring station supplied with food until they returned in four months. On the way back, the holds would be filled with Rhenium, one of the rare earth metals found in abundance within Pluto’s frozen outer layer. It proved to be the most reliable and unique catalyst for the production of antimatter.

“Jackson, contact Pluto Station,” Jon ordered the communication’s officer. When the station’s Captain appeared on the screen and pleasantries had been concluded, Archer offered his disagreeable news. “We’re three days behind schedule.”

“I’ll order the station to bread and water,” Captain Alberto Ricci suggested, keeping a straight face while allowing a twinkle to enter his orbs.

“That’s unusually cruel,” Archer responded, playing along, “when the _Al-Biruni’s_ at fault for not getting your supplies on time. Then again it might get my engineering team working more competently if I offer them the same choice.”

A short bark of laugher almost covered the Captain’s response. “Never really worked, Commander. The threat of ration packs is something to keep for only the direst circumstances or harshest punishments. I don’t know how Starfleet makes them so nauseatingly unpalatable. I’m sure they’re made out of carboard.”

“You haven’t experienced our so-called cook. If I ever get my own ship able to accommodate a chef, believe me, it will be the most exclusive appointment within Starfleet, maybe outside of it,” Jon grumbled.

“I’ll have our chef and his team prepare something for you,” Ricci teased, “when you finally arrive with our fresh produce. Not that you’re going to have much time to enjoy a meal. I hear Starfleet has you on a tight schedule. Something about a new antimatter reactor being built at the Complex.”

“News travels fast,” Jon mocked. “Not my area of expertise. Maybe talk to my lead Engineer, not that he’s in my good books right now. Lt. Tucker’s on temporary assignment from Captain Jeffery’s team.”

After signing off, Commander Archer walked to engineering. _Al Biruni’s_ design revolved around an elongated oval outer hull, made up of three levels, the lower two exclusively for cargo, accessed via sealed hatches. Life support existed only on the habitation deck. The main corridor, nicknamed the I-95 after a twentieth century through fair down the east coast of America, lead from the bridge at the bow to engineering at the stern. Crew quarters took up the starboard. Portside contained storage, communal hygiene facilities, docking, escape pods and the mess. Thankfully, the commanding officers cabin had the only private bathroom.

Commander Archer found Trip exactly where he expected, half in an access port, muttering obscenities to himself. Three of his engineering crew were scattered about the largest space on the entire vessel working on various parts of the warp reactor. A lone ensign reviewed a PAD while watching the impulse readouts. That left two engineering crew to cover the gamma shift.

The tone of voice from the access hatch changed. It seemed Trip had given an order but Jon would never be able to understand the muffled words. One of the crew manning the warp core responded with a technical phrase Archer barely comprehended. It drew Lt. Tucker from his work, a foul expression on his features.

“Commander,” he nodded, noticing Jon but trying to ignore him in an effort to get his baby back on line.

“Up grades not going to well?” Archer asked sardonically.

“You could say that,” Trip groused, before starting a long explanation.

“Stop,” Jon held up a hand, “you know I don’t understand half of what you’re saying. I want the warp engine back on-line ASAP, Lieutenant. We are three days behind schedule as it is. Then I want your team to take some down time. I don’t like the hours this department’s putting in.”

“Yes, Sir,” Tucker ground out between gritted teeth, knowing Jon was right but not wanting to admit it.

Archer ignored he evil glare his lead Engineer levelled at him. “I expect everyone at evening meal. From now on, Crewman Van will only be cooking one meal a day and I use that term very loosely. Breakfast and lunch will be prepared and left in the stasis unit or cold and buffet style. Make the changes with your crew, Trip. That’s an order.” Jon got in before the younger man started to complain.

“Aye, Sir,” Tucker’s blue eyes expressed his feelings but his brain had enough sense to keep his mouth firmly closed. They’d talked about this; the times Jon would have to issue orders Trip didn’t like or agree with. “1900, all crew to report to the ships mess and regular duty shifts starting tomorrow.”

“And call me the minute we have the warp engines back on line. I don’t want to lose any more time, we’re on a tight schedule as it is.” Archer hardened his glare before pivoting and marching out.

“Lieutenant,” Crewman Murchison asked, her voice carrying a note of reluctance at the interruption. She’d never seen Archer and Tucker cross swords before. Everyone on board knew they were together. Unlike the previous commander and her engineer husband, this pair seemed to calm by comparison, although Trip did wind Archer up occasionally. Then again, practical jokes and repartee seemed to be part of Lt. Tucker’s nature.

“There’s more than one way to skin a cat, Daisey,” Trip smirked impishly. “Commander Archer never did get the finer points of warp mechanics. Let’s get that assembly accepting the intermix. I’m thinking this girl likes to run with less antimatter, so take it down by ten percent and try again.”

“Yes, Sir,” Murchison returned to her station and made the changes.

“Hallow, Reyes,” Trip called, climbing back into his access hatch and tinkering with the relays, “give me pressure reading on the manifold and injectors every thirty seconds.” The minutes ticked by before Tucker ordered, “Daisey, down another five percent. She’s still not happy, but we’re getting closer.”

“Within normal tolerances, Lieutenant,” Crewman Reyes stated as he sounded off the latest pressure more than an hour later.

Allowing his face to infuse with pride, Tucker backed out. Turning to his team, he praised their effort. “Ensign Hallow, inform the Commander he has warp engines ready at his convenience. Oh, and you might like to tell him that she’ll probably cruse at one point one or two with the upgrades but he’s not to push her above one point three for any length of time. The engines need to break in the upgrades gradually. That should make up about forty-eight to sixty hours lost time.”

“You can put that shit eating grin away, Babe,” Jon stated the moment they entered quarters the same evening. He’d deliberately used the appellation he knew Trip hated to prove his point.

Annoyed, Archer sat through a seemingly casual lecture from the engineering compliment about logarithmic warp scales over dinner. The mood teasing, Trip’s crew were high on their success and the bridge crew happy to be back on course. Lt. Tucker might not have said a word, but his eyes challenged Jon throughout the meal. Keeping his back straight and command face firmly fixed, Archer didn’t bite. He’d waited to exact his revenge.

“Nope, Old Man,” Trip finally let his euphoria out. “I told you, it’s the same engine as _Hypatia,_ it’s just the outside casing that’s different. _Al-Biruni_ likes to run with a little less antimatter in the intermix, that’s the reason we only got one point one five out of her. So, we’ll be three hours late to Pluto. You shouldn’t have said anything to Captain Ricci until I told you I couldn’t do the job. You got to learn to trust me, Jon, on a professional level. When I tell you something can be done with those engines, you need to believe it. I’m the Engineer, I worked on enough now to know.”

“We are not talking shop,” Archer growled, “in our quarters.”

“Where else are we going to talk about this without the rest of the crew hearing the two senior officers arguing, Commander?” Trip demanded.

“This is my first command,” Jon sat on the bed heavily, as though the weight of the world were on his shoulders. “I’m being tested here, Trip and in some ways, I’m drowning. I still have three or four hours of reports to read and write with nowhere quiet enough to get the work done without being interrupted on the bridge.”

“We are both being tested,” Tucker reminded, moving to kneel behind his boyfriend, indicating the uniform had to go so he could massage Archer’s tense shoulders, “and not just for command potential. You need to cool it Jon. Relax a little, find the right balance. Besides, it’s only been a week, there were bound to be teething issues. Personally, I think we got through his one pretty well. As to the reports, they can wait until tomorrow. I’ll come up with something for your ready, well, not room, but alcove.”

“You managed to find a spare broom closet?” Jon groaned when Trip found a particularly tight knot.

“I was thinking of converting one of the heads,” Tucker teased. “There’s two behind the bridge. Surely you don’t need both with three of you on each shift.”

“So, I’ll know every time one of my crew takes a bathroom break?” Archer mocked.

“You’ll be close enough to get back to that big chair, if there’s a problem. I can also get a window installed so you can see what’s going on but not hear anything. I got the same problem in that nook they call my office,” Trip returned before ordering. “Shower, now, you and me, then bed. Don’t fight it, Old Man. You need your beauty sleep.”

“I’m not the one covered in grease and grime,” Jon retaliated, “or spending every minute in engineering. Standard shifts from now on, Trip. I want to see more of you than a few hours sleeping beside me when you’re so tired I don’t get so much as a good night kiss!”

“I told you to strip,” Tucker made his mocking tone sound like a sarcastic order, “and get in the shower. What did you think I was offering, Jon, to stand and watch?”

Shaking his head, Jonathan Archer shucked his uniform in record time. “Well,” he teased his open-mouthed boyfriend still in his soiled outfit, “I’m not seeing more of you, Babe.”

Allowing a slow, feral smile to cover his face, Trip revealed himself piece by agonising piece. Like it or not, he’d be in charge of their activities tonight. Jon’s soon learnt, Tucker could give orders and they needed to be obeyed, if he wanted to enjoy himself. 

Opportunities for intimacy were few and far between during their four weeks to and from Pluto Station. Captain Ricci, understanding the issues on a small vessel with limited space allowed the crew of _Al Biruni_ liberty. The station and accompanying mining operation couldn’t be called expansive or well appointed, but it was a vast improvement over the cramped quarters of the cargo ship. Apparently, the stations captain gave the same latitude to the previous commander and her crew.

“It is a pity,” Alberto Ricci announced at the end of their promised meal, “your posting is of such short duration. I believe I would like to get to know you better Commander.”

“Please, call me Jon. One more trip,” Archer agreed holding up his glass filled, “then back to the Complex and that new antimatter reactor. I still can’t believe you knew about that when the personnel on the project kept it quiet.”

“Ah,” Al tapped his nose and allowed a shrewd smile to creep across his lips, “it pays to have the only source of catalyst for the antimatter reaction chamber. It was more a matter of putting together the rumours with the increase in demand and reading the vids speculating about the new warp engine.”

“I see I have a lot to learn,” Archer agreed, “in terms of the politics surrounding Starfleet.”

“Politics,” Trip shook his head sadly. “Getting Henry Archer’s engine out of the Sol system shouldn’t be about politics. It should be about human endeavour and tenacity, exploration and improvement.”

“Agreed,” Ricci concurred. “However, when Pluto is the only source of quality and abundant Rhenium in this system, and most of our efforts go to filling the cargo bays of ships headed to Vulcan, one begins to see associations that are not necessarily in the best interests of Humanity or Starfleet.”

“Starfleet cargo vessels?” Archer asked, his eyebrows lifting. A nod from Alberto had Trip and Jon sharing a look and significant expression as if this discussion went a long way to explaining their current assignment. An idea forming, the Commander turned to his lead engineer and questioned, “I remember you saying the quality of the dilithum crystal would need to increase with the newer generation warp engines.”

“I know where you’re going with this,” Trip stated before Jon could voice the real questions. “Our current supply is adequate for the engines we’ve got in service. We’ll be able to get warp two easily but beyond that, we have to get out into the galaxy, explore and find purer deposits to mine.”

“I am glad we had the opportunity for this chat. I believe,” Captain Alberto Ricci took a deliberate sip from his wine glass, “you understand the reason for your short and sudden deployment. If I was a betting man, I would say this has the hand of Admiral Yamamoto all over it. Clever man. Devious and not above using anyone to achieve his goals. If you’ve come to his notice, Commander, Lieutenant, I’d be watching Starfleet politics very carefully. His influence is as far reaching as his displeasure if you don’t fall into line with his plans.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Jon stated. _I wonder if that’s the reason Captain Ricci has been stationed on this remote post for the last ten years. Is he gatekeeping for Yamamoto or in disgrace for some perceived wrong doing?_


	23. Al Biruni: January - August 2142

“Interesting discussion,” Trip stated as they entered their quarters.

Nodding, Jon paced the tiny space, needing to think about the facts they’d learnt over dinner. He couldn’t do so along the I-95 without being interrupted by at least half of the thirteen-crew coming or going on liberty. Here, in what should be his sanctuary, Trip invaded every molecule of to the minuscule space. Worse, his lover’s eyes watched Archer become more agitated with each passing second, which only served to increase his tension. The one thing Jonathan Archer knew without doubt, they’d been manipulated, again.

_Or perhaps_ , Jon’s alter ego added, _it is still. Just how far up the tree does this go? All the way to Admiral Yamamoto? When was this plot conceived? All the way back when I was assigned to Captain Layton and that lecture series?_

Sighing, Trip stated, “I know that look. You have some serious thinking to do without me around. I’ll go to the mess, see who’s about.”

“Trip,” Jon started half-heartedly. He hated the idea of kicking his boyfriend out of his own quarters, but there was simply no other option.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Tucker responded as he headed for the door, “I shouldn’t have to leave my quarters so you can ponder this. It’s not like you can pace in that area called a ready room. Face it, Jon, this test is about more than being able to work together, even if that’s what Yamamoto wants us to think. Just ask Commodore Forest to do his homework on the class of ship he suggests next time. I’d like my own quarters, next to yours, that way I could get the engineering department to make some adjustments for situations like this.”

“Such as,” Jon asked, intrigued by the suggestion.

“We could use my quarters as a living room of sorts with a computer terminal each, one connected to the bridge and other to engineering so we could work from home, so to speak,” Trip answered. “That way you could close the door between the areas and pace the bedroom to your hearts content, or complete reports in comfort. Hell, we might even be able to watch a game in relative comfort and privacy.”

“Come here you,” Jon felt his agitation falling away as Trip fell into his arms. Releasing him just as quickly, Archer ordered, “you know I love you, but get out of here Lieutenant. Tonight,” shaking his head, Commander Archer didn’t need to say more.

“Aye, Sir,” Trip mocked.

Lt. Tucker didn’t look back. Truth be known, Trip had ideas swirling in his head and needed to be tinkering with his baby to sort out the muddled thoughts. Heading for the stern of _Al Biruni_ , the lead engineer offered a silent greeting to the crewman on duty, before bearing towards his ‘office’. About an hour later, Jon ambled in and sat on the corner of his desk with a wide smile.

“I expected to you to be streaked with grease,” Archer smirked mockingly. It took time to realise Lt. Tucker had just as much on his mind that needed sorting out after Captain Ricci’s insinuations. Usually, when Trip’s head entered that space, he needed to pull something apart, only to put it back together.

“Nope,” Trip grinned in response. “I decided to put my brain into gear this time and do some research. I’ve been looking up cargo manifests, found something more intriguing and a hell of a lot more disturbing. You could say an answer of sorts.”

“Care to share?” Jon’s attention arrowed onto the screen.

Pointing out several lines of text, Trip’s eyes told a story. “About what I expected when I considered the implications. It explains the vested interest from our Vulcan overlords. I have to wonder if they’ve done this before, with cultures on the edge of warp technology. It sure would explain a lot about their paternalistic attitude toward Humanity and Starfleet in particular. Also, why they waited until _Phoenix_ completed the first warp flight before contacting us.”

“Rare in this case really does mean rare,” Jon kept his whistle low as the cogs in his mind saw the same correlations. “In a hundred years, there won’t be any significant or easily mined Rhenium left on Pluto’s surface. Meaning, our ability to create antimatter to power our warp engines will be severely limited, unless we find another source.”

“Or a more efficient reaction, or decrease the amount we use in our warp technology,” Trip agreed. “Best case scenario would be an alternative method of producing antimatter, followed by an engine that doesn’t use it at all.”

“I wonder,” Jon’s mind recalled his father’s fury with the Vulcan’s exacting standards, “if that’s the reason for stalling our development. No,” he answered the question before Trip could ask, “not so they could basically steal our Rhenium supply. My father’s design, how similar is it to Vulcan warp technology?”

“Most species,” Trip understood, “would take a similar developmental approach, ending up with a variation on a theme.”

“Is that why are the Vulcan’s so reluctant to share their warp technology? Why,” Archer demanded, “they are so concerned with our engine, more especially ensuring the design is up to their exacting standards? Are they using humanity to create something they have failed to achieve?”

“We,” Trip stated, “aren’t bound by logic, meaning we can take a leap of faith. Makes senses, especially when you consider the deposits in the mantle are less dense and harder to mine with current technology. I’d like to share this information with my family. I’m sure Tucker Technical Industries could find a way to expediate the mining process. But, if Yamamoto’s as cleaver as Ricci thinks, maybe that’s just another piece of the puzzle.”

“I always thought you and me, the lecture tour was fate,” Jon shook his head. “I’m beginning to think it was a lot more than that. Your family’s company, not to mention skill set and my father’s engine. One hell of a combination. A little too convenient, if you ask me!”

“I don’t care if it was,” Trip stated emphatically. He understood where Jon’s thoughts tended and it was not a place Tucker wanted his lover to go. “What’s between you and me, Jonathan Archer, is real. No one can make a person fall in love with someone else, no matter how much exposure or how they want it. Starfleet might have been hoping for something to happen, for a friendship so they could use us more easily, but I don’t think they ever envisioned what we have together. Hell, I didn’t even know I could feel this much for another person. That doesn’t mean the powers that be aren’t above using our feelings for each other. Yamamoto already proved that fact.”

“The eldest son of Tucker Technical Industries with Henry Archer’s only child,” Jon shook his head. “Come on, Trip, I’ve done enough soul searching for one night. It’s time for bed before my head explodes.”

“Grandpa Chuck has a saying, Jonny,” Trip stood, holding out his hand, he waited for Archer to break their rules and take it. When Jonathan did, Tucker smiled wickedly. “In a situation like this, he’d say, don’t get mad Trippy, get even. We make this work for us. We know Yamamoto wants you and me on that first warp five ship. He said as much. We got our destination, it’s just the journey there we have to negotiate, in our favour.”

“So, we get though the rest of this assignment,” Archer agreed. “Go back to the complex and play the game. I don’t think you’re going to be the only one with a post graduate degree for long, Trip. I’ve got to go back to Stanford and get my Masters in Politics and Diplomacy if we’re going to negotiate this to our satisfaction.”

“I’ll support you any way I can, Jon,” Trip promised, a mischievous expression entering his twinkling blue eyes, “you know that. So will **_my_** family, and before you start on that again, they’re your family now as well. I’m afraid there’s no way of escaping after you faced down my mother to protect me from her hopes.”

“I’m not looking forward to telling your parents about this,” Archer shook his head.

“I’m not looking forward to tell Mama that we didn’t get married in Singapore.” When Jon’s head short up, his hazel orbs asking questions, Trip chuckled. “Come on, Jonny, did you really think Mama though you were telling the truth about Pieter and Lee. She expected either it was our wedding or we’d do something impetuous and join them.”

“Even after I told her you weren’t ready?” Jon demanded.

“Yep,” Trip responded. “It’s called hope and she won’t stop hoping you convince me, especially if she thinks you’re ready. Next will come the demands for grandkids.”

Blushing, Jon confessed, “I got that manifesto, loud and clear.”

“We can let them know, unofficially,” Trip suddenly had one of his shit eating grins that said he had a plan. “Not about getting married at some point in the very distant future. I’m talking about mining Rhenium and a new antimatter production system. Anything else, has to come down through authorised channels. TTI holds several Starfleet contracts. Believe me, leave the details to Dad and Jamie. If anyone can exact a price, it’s those two.”

“I believe you,” Jon found a genuine smile gracing his lips. His hazel eyes lit up, making suggestions Trip couldn’t ignore. Together they returned to their quarters, wiser and understanding there wasn’t a thing they could do for the next six months trapped on a cargo ship in the middle of nowhere.

“You know, I missed the entire water polo season,” Jon grumbled, dumping his kit on the floor just inside their apartment’s entry. The final handover for _Al-Biruni_ occurred three hours ago at orbital. By now, the old girl would be on her way to recycling at Jupiter shipyards, after a team of engineers looked at Trips upgrades. Archer regrated the loss of his first command already.

“Commodore Forest sent you all games,” Trip responded, understanding the feeling of loss emanating off his boyfriend. They’d had their up and downs. Thankfully more ups than downs. Proved they could work together with limited space with one in command of the other professionally. They’d managed to find ways to circumnavigate their personal relationship while remaining Starfleet Officers, even if Trip had spent a night or two attempting to sleep in his minuscule office, mad as hell at Commander Archer or trying to stay out of his way. “And you made me watch them with you in that toilet sized ready room I created so you could get some work done. I know my conversation’s not as stimulating as Wayne’s…”

“Are you still jealous,” Jon couldn’t hide his pleased expression.

“You coming to the building’s social tomorrow night?” Trip returned. He didn’t need Jon to say a definitive ‘no’, his expression was enough. “Well, you got your answer.”

“Not even through the door and your giving me lip already,” Jon teased.

“I’ll give you more than lip,” Trip teased in a sudden turn around.

They were both glad to be home. Even more pleased to have space. Their opportunities for intimate time on _Al-Biruni_ were few and far between. Prudence required they keep their lovemaking quiet enough so the rest of the crew didn’t hear them though the paper-thin walls. Jon didn’t get a chance to removed his uniforms before Trip was on him. However, the younger man had ideas of his own. Archer’s pleasure hit him suddenly and without much warning, his hands in his boyfriend’s hair as Trips eye watched from his kneeling position.

Grinning evilly, Jon finally managed to get his clothing off. “My turn,” he stated.

“Oh, no, Old Man,” Trip gave him that grin that meant trouble. “This is all my show. Now, on the couch. I got a lot of time to make up.”

“Yes, sir,” Jon didn’t bother to fight. “Whatever you say.”

_At least_ , Trip considered, _this will take his mind off Al-Biruni for a while. I know Commodore Forest said you never forget your first command, just like you don’t forget your first real love. Our posting proved a good experience for both of us, a journey we had to take. Now it’s time to come back to reality and work on the big picture, on our ultimate goal and find out exactly who’s been manipulating us and for what reason._

Jonathan Archer’s relationship with Commodore Forest didn’t change over the next year, even if Lt. Charles Tucker refused to express his growing antipathy toward anyone above the rank of Captain. Max’s attitude toward them, both professionally and personally, never changed, on the surface, but Trip began to see behind the façade the man constantly wore. There was no doubt an almost father/son relationship existed between Forest and Archer. At times, Trip saw glimpses of the astute pollical figure behind the uniform even in their personal interactions, which only proved Commodore Maxwell Forest was Starfleet through and through.

“I’m glad you’ve enrolled in a master’s program,” Max offered a month after returning from _Al Biruni_. “There’s going to come a time when every officer wanting to climb the ladder will need post graduate qualifications.”

Trip sent a sideways glance at Jon as if to say, _I told you so. You’re being groomed, Jonny_. Seated in Commodore Forest’s dining room, his apartment situated near the Presidio, the view from the window was one Archer could only envy. Mia, Max’s long-suffering wife excused herself to get the next course and gave the men a few moments alone to discuss business. Mia Forest proved to be the consummate wife for a man wanting to make Admiral.

“Promotions,” Jon responded carefully, “don’t come around that often after reaching my rank.”

“True,” Max sighed. “Nine years and you’re a full Commander, Jon. The next step, becoming a Captain is enormous in terms of responsibility and recognition.”

“Meaning?” Trip demanded on behalf of Archer.

“You have to distinguish yourself,” the Commodore sighed, his expression turning very serious. “A master’s degree is only half the equation.”

“In other words,” Trip stated sarcastically, “you got to get noticed. Maybe you should turn into Robinson and take life threatening risks.” Both Jon and Max turned their glares on Lt. Tucker. “You know, maybe I’ll be a good little wife and help Mrs. Forest with the next course, cause I sure ain’t helping here.” Throwing down his napkin, the engineer stalked out.

“How the hell do you do it?” Trip demanded of Mia a few moment later.

Brown eyes watched him carefully. Mrs. Forest shook her head. Leaning against a counter, she smiled. “You learn, Trip, to hold your tongue, to leave when your partner in life makes small gestures indicating he had private matters he needs to speak about, you have your own interests but most of all, you offer support while sharing a pillow at night. Great men require an even greater loved one behind the scenes. Like it or not, you’re fallen for a man who’d destined to become great. If you don’t like the path, then it’s time to choose another one, before you no longer have the option.”

“You saying your trapped in this life?” Tucker demanded.

“I’m saying,” Mia Forest placed a motherly palm on the young man’s cheek, “I chose this life with my eye wide open. I willingly support my husband in his efforts. He want’s what you and Jon want, but has to go about achieving that goal in a proscribed and careful manner.”

Nodding, Trip understood. “If he doesn’t follow the party line,” he sighed, “when push comes to shove, he’ll find himself out in the cold.”

“History,” Mia opened the stasis unit and took out two plates, which she handed to Trip, “should be a great insight into human nature, a tool for learning and avoiding past mistakes. In the twenty second century we are no better than two or three hundred years ago. We continue to make the same errors, play the same games. I hope you and Jon will become more enlightened and strive for a better future.”

With that, Mia Forest picked up the other plates and proceeded Trip into the dining room. “I hope everyone like’s salmon,” she intoned brightly.

“It’s Jon favourite,” Trip stated thoughtfully. _But then again, I guess you already knew that. Behind every great man, is a great woman. I can’t recall where I read that, but now I understand it. I also get that Jon’s being groomed for something more than just Captain of the starship with his father’s engine. I’m just not sure I can play the part of the little woman behind the scenes._

“Trip?” Jon questioned as they left the Forest home.

“You take the transport,” Tucker suggested. “I need to walk,” he added when his Jonny was about to offer company. Watching his boyfriend enter the station, Trip turned and proceeded in the other direction. Fifteen minutes later he arrived at Pieter’s door. “I think I’m in trouble, Pieter. I need to talk to Lee.”


	24. In Trouble: September 2142 - March 2143

“I can’t help you,” Lee stated in a soothing tone. He’d taken the shaken younger man into his home office and requested his husband make a pot of traditional tea before allowing Lt. Tucker to say a word. Sitting Trip down, Dr Lee Soon Shao put on his professional face, sat back, and listened to the entire sordid tale. Teasing the emotions out of the situation, Lee finally delivered his professional opinion. “I know this information has brought out your emotional nature. Trip, there’s a decision to be made here, a decision only you can make.”

“I guess,” Trip stated mournfully, watching Lee’s casual posture while his heart raced and mind wouldn’t stop, “I knew that.”

“You needed an impartial ear after the shock you received this evening,” Lee agreed in a calm monotone. “It’s not every day you realise the person you’re in love with is destine for a great career, or that their mentor, who is like a father, has far reaching plans. Commodore Forest, to the best of my knowledge has no children. Jonathan Archer fulfils that role. It is a mutually beneficial relationship.”

Standing and pacing, Trip instinctively knew all this, but saying the words made it a reality. “Hell, Lee, you’ve met my parents. They want what’s best for their children. Grandpa Chuck would say ‘that’s what comes from choosing a man!’.”

“It that the real problem, Trip?” Lee asked seriously. “Is this a reaction to Jon being the alpha male in your partnership? Are you questioning your sexuality and choices? Is that why you’ve referred to yourself thought-out this discussion as the ‘little wife’?”

“NO,” the answer was immediate. “I love him, Lee, more than I ever thought possible. It’s just, well, after a year and a half together, **_we’re_** finally on an even keel. We’ve got our personal and professional lives together, even though we’re being manipulated.”

“So, it’s this new manipulation that’s the real issue,” Dr. Shao asked, gently.

“Hell, I don’t know,” Trip whined. “I’m not sure if I’m more confused now than I was before coming here. I just know that this situation feels wrong. I’ve never really had any ambition past becoming the Chief Engineer of the first truly interstellar space craft. I’ve never considered what my career will look like, after I achieve that goal.”

“You’re only twenty-two, Trip,” Lee suggested gently, “and already a leader in your field. This engine will be built in what, five or ten years. You’ll still be a very young man, even if you spend ten years as the Chief Engineer. In twenty years, Jon will be in the prime of his life, professionally, and looking for the next challenge, whatever that might be.”

“And he’ll probably still be in Starfleet as an Admiral,” Trip stated with an easy shrug of his shoulders. “Especially if Commodore Forest has anything to say about it. It’s the reason he’s gone back to Stanford and is doing his masters in diplomacy and politics. I know this is more than a job to Jon.”

“But not for you?” Lee questioned.

“That’s not the issue,” Trip suddenly stood still, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Something about tonight, the conversation with Mrs. Forest set off my fears. I can’t even tell you what those fears are, Lee. Jon wanted to get married before this posting.”

“You’re not married,” Lee observed, “so I gather you said no.”

“I was still twenty-one when Jon asked in a roundabout way,” Trip stated with a little rancour. “He only did it because Fleet Admiral Yamamoto suggested it would further our careers. I told him I don’t conform to others expectations and if I’m going against the Tucker tradition of marrying early, I’m not about to roll over for Starfleet.”

“You know,” Lee smiled, recognising the cogs beginning to turn in the correct direction, “that might just be the root of your problem, Trip. You don’t take orders well, from anyone. I’m here to listen to you, anytime.”

“I guess that’s why you asked me to be your best man,” Trip managed to find a moment of flippancy to lighten the mood. “You’re right, I needed to talk this through with someone who doesn’t have an agenda, hidden or otherwise. My mind was clouded by so much emotion, I couldn’t think straight.”

“You need to tell Jon where you are,” Pieter stated from the doorway. He’ been unashamedly listening in from the beginning. “If Lee did this to me, I’d be worried sick.”

“I know,” Trip sighed, before examining Lt. Wagner’s expression. “How many times has he called?”

“Three,” Pieter admitted. “Each time more agitated than the last. Are you going to make this situation worse by staying?”

“No, but you can give me your communicator so I can call Jon, then a transport,” Trip offered.

“Look on the bright side,” Lee offered after Tucker made his arrangements, “at least Jon knows where you’ll go, when something upsets you, even if he can’t understand why. He knows your safe and speaking with a professional that will give you an impartial prospective.”

“And the third degree when I get home,” Trip stated mournfully. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, he won’t ask. It’s that kicked puppy look I get, like I’ve hurt him without reason. Ok, Pieter, don’t you start, cause that’s the look I’m talking about. I know I’ve hurt him by not trusting him enough with my feelings. I just needed time to sort this whole situation out in my mind.”

“Jon,” Lee stated.

“I hurt JON but not trusting JON,” Trip glared at the psychiatrist. “Happy now, LEE.”

Shaking his head, Dr. Shao offered a final thought, “did this truly come out of left field, Trip, or have you expected it?” When Lt. Tucker’s eyes widened in complete shock, Lee had his answer. “We are all professionals. Introducing Jon to our group proved surprisingly easy, he fit in from the first moment. He’s every bit as intelligent and capable as the three of us, even if he’s the only one without Dr. before his surname. Both his parents were academics, the best in their fields. It makes sense that their son is capable of great things. Do you think you would have been attracted to someone without intelligence and ambition when you have it?”

“Maybe I don’t know Jon as well as I should,” Trip responded.

“Maybe,” Pieter offered, “you don’t know yourself as well as you should. What do you really want out of your relationship, Trip? I can tell you from personal experience, it’s not a one-way street. Lee and I have our arguments. I’m usually happy to let my husband have his way.”

“Until you want your own,” Lee smirked. “I’ve learnt to give in on occasion, trust Pieter’s instincts.”

“My Daddy said something similar,” Trip stated thoughtfully. _But this isn’t about me_ , the insight came in a flash, _it’s about Jon. I’m furious for him, because I’m not sure he understands the far-reaching plans Max Forest has for him, how far that man will manipulate the situation. And I’m sure not ready to be the power behind that throne. Talk about putting the cart before the horse, as Jon would say. If this happens, if Max is able to groom Jon to take his place in Starfleet, it will be years, decades before it occurs as Lee pointed out. The reality is, I don’t have the luxury of time. I can see the path stretching out before me, at least the beginnings of it. Jon’s journey started on Al Biruni. I have to decide to stay and be in the background, or leave and forge my own reputation and life. I guess that’s the real question. What do I want from my life? I know I want marriage and kids after exploring the universe. That hasn’t changed since I was a kid. Jon asked about the family company. Maybe that’s an option, especially if he’s tied up with Starfleet. With all this talk about Rhenium and antimatter production, it would be a good addition for Tucker Technical. Then again, I could go back to MIT. Hell, we haven’t even got Dr. Henry Archer’s engine off the drawing board and I’m thinking about a future that two or three decades away._

“We often take our role models from our parents,” Lee suggested, observing his guest carefully. “I’m not sure Jon had the supportive family dynamics of the Tuckers’. Give him time and your complete trust, Trip. You might be surprised at the result.”

Pieter, always the more emotional of the pair, agreed. “You know, the last time we went to dinner, you and Lee were in a deep discussion. I mentioned adopting.”

“You’re considering kids?” Trip asked.

“It was always part of our plans,” Lee nodded. “I’m not getting any younger, Trip.”

“Jon listened to me ramble on about the issues of starting a family within a same sex, interatrial marriage,” Pieter explained, giving his husband the evil eye. Lee knew when to leave well enough alone. Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he gave the floor over. “IVF, surrogacy, the difference between our heritage. I want a baby with big brown, almond shaped eyes, Trip, to show his father’s traits. After the Eugenics war, any kind of genetic engineering or manipulation is forbidden. That leaves us with few options. Before you interrupt, I asked Jon if I was talking to much. He told me ‘Trip has sisters. There genetics must be similar’, which proves, Jon’s at least interested in the topic. My point is, Jonathan Archer loves you. He’s not about to let you out of his life when he’s thinking about children that share your genetics, no matter where either of you ends up professionally.”

“Pieter?” Lee questioned.

“I asked my twin sister already,” Pieter informed his speechless husband. “I’m waiting for her reply. I didn’t want to say anything until Fayton gave me her answer. After all, I have two others that might help. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, she told me if she did this, she’d be the one carrying her child/nephew and meant to be a part of their life, even when the siblings came along.”

“Fayton’s ova,” Lee stated, gobsmacked, “and my sperm?”

“That’s usually how a baby is usually created, Doctor,” Pieter teased. “Insemination, of course.”

“I’ll heat that tea,” Trip stated, watching Lee become emotional and Pieter comfort his husband. “Then let myself out. I hope it all works out.”

“It will,” Pieter smiled, his confidence infective.

Nodding, Trip thanked his friends. Walking to the cab, he climbed in silently. His mind full, the young man had a lot to consider on the short flight home. Once there, he called Jon to meet him in the foyer. Archer approached carefully, waiting for his boyfriend to make the first move. Holding out his hand, Trip felt relief when Jon took it and allowed him to take the lead. They didn’t talk until they were several blocks away, before a bar known for slow dancing and it mostly homosexual clientele. Pulling Jon into his arms, Trip started to move in time with the crowd.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Not quite sure what occurred at the Forest’s or why Trip felt the need to consult with Lee, Jon held his tongue. Pieter had given nothing away on the com, other than his boyfriend turned up at their door unexpectedly and more troubled than Lt. Wagner had ever seen. Now this, which completely confused Jonathan Archer but let him know it had more to do with Trip’s feeling about himself than their relationship.

When they finally arrived home, they made love more tenderly and passionately than ever before, forcing Jon to ask, “what was that about?”

“I love you,” Trip repeated his earlier words, as if that were all the explanation required.

“I know that,” Jon responded, confused. “I love you. I just can’t help wondering what’s caused this.”

“Don’t ask, Jon,” Trip warned, turning over to be spooned. “I’m not sure I’m ready to face my thoughts.”

“I’ll be right here when you are ready to talk about them,” he offered.

“I know,” Trip mumbled, “it’s the one thing in this mess I can count on.”

More confused than ever, Jon found sleep illusive. The next morning, their routine went back to normal and Trip’s mood seemed lighter, as though he’d vanquished his demons. Archer found himself watching his boyfriend for the rest of the month and noticing the oddest events would cause a moment of quiet contemplation, followed by an expression of pure determination.

Occasionally, Jon attempted to create the opportunity to talk. Trip never took him up on the offer. Jon noted each episode of quiet contemplation was followed by deep observation when his lover didn’t think he’d notice. When they went to Florida for Vicky’s birthday, Trip forced his one-year old nephew, Callum O’Shea, into Jon’s arms. He’d held the child before but hadn’t been particularly interested. Jonathan Archer knew this was a test, but couldn’t quite understand Trip’s logic.

Work ramped up. Lt. Tucker started spending more time at the complex as the NX prototypes needed fitting out. Late nights became the norm for both of them. Every second Tuesday, Jon stayed behind to attend a tutorial for Master’s students at Stanford. He suspected Trip used this time for a project he didn’t want Jon to know about. I didn’t take long to realise his young lover wasn’t spending the time talking to Pieter and Lee. They were too involved with Fayton’s pregnancy and getting their home ready for a child.

Between their friends extending their family and the O’Shea’s, Jon wondered if Trip’s issue had to do with kids. The next time they babysat for Captain Smith, he’d send a few subtle question’s in Tucker’s direction. Unfortunately, between visits to Florida, his Masters course and the fast approaching date to launch the NX Alpha, Jon never got the opportunity.

“Twenty-three today,” Jon woke early for what had become a birthday tradition. “Time to rise, Trip.”

Archer could hear the smirk as his boyfriend answered with his usual boastfulness. “You know I’m always ready, Old Man. What you going to do about it?”

“Roll over,” Jon ordered, “on your hands and knees.”

“You going to sit there and admire my arse,” Trip taunted when nothing happened for well over a minute, “or are you going to do something with it?”

“Not ready yet,” Jon smirked. “I’m still appreciating the view.”

Growling, Archer didn’t get the chance to observe any longer. Trip launched himself, knocking them both off the bed. They spent an uncomfortable day, trying to avoid their uniforms chaffing the carpet burn in unmentionable places.

“You and your bright ideas,” Jon groused on the transport home. “I was going to take you out to dinner, but you’re worse off than me.”

“Well,” Trip managed a sarcastic rejoinder, “on the bedroom floor is one we won’t be adding to the list of do-overs.”

Jonathan Archer simply shook his head. “I knew life with you would never be boring, Trip,” he stated. Instead of celebrating, the Ensign at the front desk com to tell them Dr. Shao was waiting. “Let Lee into our apartment and tell him we’re about ten minutes ten minutes away.”

“We got any Chinese tea left from the last time they came to dinner?” Trip asked, obviously worried.

“You see what’s happened,” Jon ordered, “while I go to the store. I don’t like this, Trip. I hope it’s not the baby.”

“Or Pieter,” Tucker responded. “You know, I’ve turned up on their doorstep twice. Lee’s always been there for me. I know he has a wide circle of friends.”

“You’ll know why he chose you in a few minutes,” Jon said, every bit as worried.

By the time he returned to the apartment, Trip and Lee were ensconced on the lounge. Archer didn’t disturb them as he headed for the kitchen. However, he did hear Lee say, “I understand now, Trip.”

“Want to tell me about it?” Jon asked after Lee returned home.

“The baby’s fine, it’s a girl, by the way,” Trip sighed, patting the seat beside him. “Pieter and their relationships the issue. I never really wondered why Wagner became a Starfleet officer.”

Making a noise that stated he was listen, Jon’s eyes narrowed on his lover.

“Pieter always wanted to be at the forefront of space medicine,” Trip stated sadly.

“Meeting Lee, getting married and now expanding their family,” Jon understood, “put those plans on hold.”

“Until three days ago, when Lt. Wagner got a promotion and a two-year posting on _Marie Curie_ as the Chief Medical Officer,” Trip informed. “There might only be fifty-eight Starfleet personal, but the rest of the compliment of over two hundred is made up of academics. Pieter’s going to be practicing and studying space medicine. Lee’s beside himself with the baby due in a few months and his husband light years away.”

“So, Pieter took the assignment?” Jon asked.

“Lee told Pieter he had no choice and has just seen him off,” he confirmed. “He knew how much Pieter wanted this. Now Lee’s talking about giving up his private practice and joining the _Marie Curie_ once their daughter’s born. He doesn’t want to stand in the way of Pieter’s career, especially when he could be a pioneer in his field.”

Nodding, after four months, Jon finally had some idea of Trip’s issue. Lee’s comment suddenly made sense. He was giving up his professional vocation to support his partner in life. For whatever reason, Charles Tucker had felt the same way after that dinner with Max and Mia.

_Not after_ , Jon came to the startling realisation, _but after helping Mia in the kitchen. What the hell did she say to Trip that got him all worked up. If I’m reading this correctly, it has something to do with my career. We’ve talked about this, about being the Captain and Chief Engineer on the starship that finally gets humanity among the stars. It’s a shared dream and is going to take us at least another ten or fifteen years to get there._

Completely confused, Jon said, “I’m sure it will all work out.”

“Even if Lee’s not completely happy? Come on Jon, their married and expanding their family, which is something Pieter’s always wanted. A ship is no place to bring up a child. Lee’s giving up a practice he’s spent years building. I hope Pieter understands the sacrifice his husband’s making, cause I’m not sure I could in the same situation.”

_Was that a warning_ , Jonathan Archer wondered?


	25. First Flight: September 2143

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The episode is in the spirit of the original with a few minor changes to incorporate my AU. Also, in reality, it would have taken more than Archer, Tucker and Robinson to launch the NX beta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think some people might have been waiting for this one.

“Come on,” Trip teased, lifting the long neck to his mouth and taking a sip before pleading, “give me a hint?”

“Two girls,” Ruby, the new waitress at the 602 played along with the ruse. Everyone even remotely associated with Starfleet heard about today’s disastrous mission. Forcing a smile to her lips, she hoped to combat the nebulous feeling of dejection pervading the room with her little game. The NX alpha ended up in a million pieces over five thousand square kilometres somewhere in the vicinity of Jupiter, while the pilot managed to escape. It seemed half the Complex’s personnel were in the bar drowning their sorrows. “One boy and that’s all I’m saying, Tucker.”

“Peta,” Trip guessed playfully, watching the woman’s expression closely, “Paul and Mary.”

“Close,” Ruby light-heartedly smacked the incorrigible engineer on the back of the head. She’d taken the job three weeks ago, and three minutes later knew Charles Tucker and his constant flirting were completely harmless. The waitress couldn’t say the same for the group of pilots he drank with on a Friday evening. It hadn’t taken long to realise the reason the engineer was attracted to the group. Trip was besotted with his boyfriend. “Two out of three ain’t bad. Closest anyone got so far.”

“What,” Jon managed to arch his eyebrow, imitating a Vulcan as the woman moved back to the bar, “was all that about?”

Chuckling, Trip understood that tone. Archer was both intrigued and pissed. He hated it when Tucker flirted with women. Even after two and a half years together, Jon couldn’t help the completely unfounded fear that Trip would revert to finding women attractive. “First person to guess the names Ruby’s picked out for her kids, gets to marry her.”

Shaking his head, Jon’s voice became low and just a little aggressive. About a year ago, their relationship went through a rough patch. Trip kept the problem to himself, preferring to confide in his good friend Dr. Lee Shao. Archer still didn’t really know what the issue related too. Every time he attempted to question Tucker, even subtly with his new techniques in diplomacy, Trip evaded the topic.

“Not liking that idea,” Jon’s hazel eyes boarded into his companions. Commander Archer knew the identity of the man he wanted for his husband. Not long after meeting Trip, his mind began to play with the idea until it became an incontrovertible fact by his thirtieth birthday. In Jonathan Archer’s mind, it was only a matter of when to ask. Realising the time was now, Archer ventured, “I think you’d better marry me to save any confusion.”

“That a proposal?” Trip attempted to keep his tone light, while his heart tried to escape his chest.

They’d been skirting this issue for a while, had talked about it on several occasions before that disastrous dinner at the Forest’s apartment. Jon seemed to instinctively understand Trip felt the time hadn’t been right, especially after that meal. They’d not even alluded to the possibility for the last year, although their intimacy had matured in the same time period.

With the failure of the NX alpha today, thanks to Robinson not following orders, Tucker realised life was too short to gamble on a tomorrow they might not have. True, A.G. managed to make it back, but it had been a close call. _To close, especially if it had been Jon in that cockpit,_ the engineer’s subconscious told him. _So what if I have to play the little wife at home, supporting my husband and bringing up the kids alone while he’s out there, in the public eye. It’s not like Jon didn’t do the same for me while on the lecture tour. A relationship is about give and take. Mama and Daddy both have demanding careers, both have planet wide companies, yet still manage to be heavily involved in their family and community. I’ve concluded that if they can do it, so can Jon and I. This is one Tucker tradition I intend to keep._

“Do I have to guess the names of our kids?” Archer teased, sitting back in his chair and scrutinising his lover’s reaction. A hand reached out under the table, coming to rest firmly on Trip’s inner thigh.

_Go for broke_ , Tucker told himself. _Tell Jon how you really feel, what you want for the future and then take it from there. After all, it’s not like you haven’t refined your aspirations over the last year_.

“Nope, I’ll tell you,” Trip responded, placing his left hand over Archers and linking their fingers. Picking up his beer with the other to take another sip, it gave the younger man time to assess his long-time lover’s response. _So far, so good_ , Trip told himself. “First boy has to be Charles Tucker IV. It’s a traditional family thing.”

“Frist boy?” Archer’s lips turned up slightly, his thumb starting to draw circles on Tucker’s wrist. Both knew were this was going, and fast. “Just how many boys do you want?”

“Two,” Trip smirked, “and a daughter.”

Archer shook his head. Taking up his own beer, he turned the thought over in his head, and liked the image. He’d seen Trip with Capt. Smith’s three girls on several occasions and how they responded to him. The memory, watching Tucker’s playful discipline and realising he could cope with a family, returned to Jon with vengeance, but only if that image contained Trip as his significant other.

“Just when were you planning on this family?” Jon asked in a lackadaisical tone.

“Oh,” Trip paused, his heart picking up speed. He’d thought about that, a lot, over the last year. “After you get captaincy of the first warp 5 starship, with me as Chief Engineer.”

Suddenly leaning forward to create an intimate space between them, Jon’s eyes locked onto his lovers. Robinson’s words came back to haunt him. Two weeks ago, he’d told Archer not to play it by the book, to take risks, if he wanted to gain the rank of Captain. Today, A.G. had taken a risk. It hadn’t paid off but Trip mentioned an idea on the way over to the 602, if only he could get the NX beta test flight. Right now, the risk Jonathan Archer needed to take was much more personal and far reaching. He wasn’t completely confident Trip would say yes. That change a year ago had Jonathan worried their relationship wouldn’t last forever. Yet, he got the feeling it was now or never.

“Maybe five years on board,” Tucker enthused, carefully noting every word being analysed. If Jon didn’t want kids, eventually, or the canvas he was painting, he would have shut this conversation down before it started. They’d never really discussed a family. In Tucker’s mind, marriage and kids went together, although a same sex relationship would make that possibility more difficult as Pieter and Lee’s situation proved. “I guess they’ll make you a Commodore by then. Maybe I’ll retire and go into R and D as a consultant for Tucker Technical Industries with my own branch of Warp Propulsion. That’ll give us plenty of time for raising our children.”

“You been thinking about this for a while, Trip?” Jon asked seriously.

“Yep,” he responded, carefully.

“But you had to make sure my expectations were the same as yours,” Archer stated, his hazel orbs making the promise of permeance.

“Yes,” the word came out more fearful than Trip intended. “No point combining our lives any more than now, if we’re not heading in the same direction. I want a family, Jon, one day. That’s not negotiable.”

“But,” Jon understood whatever fears underlay Trip’s hesitation, whatever occurred a year ago was about to raise its ugly head.

“You have to suspect,” Trip put his beer down, his blue orbs narrowing and becoming a stormy grey, “Max has plans for your career. Jon, he’s the closest person you have to a father. Commodore Forest has chosen you for his successor. He’s teaching you the art of Starfleet politics. Mia told me I’d have to be a good little wife, support your career because you’re going places.”

Jon snorted, which was not the reaction Trip expected. “Is that what this has been about?”

Nodding, Charles Tucker felt, well, he didn’t quite know how he felt. Deflated, perhaps.

“Trip,” Jon ensured he had his lovers complete and undivided attention by squeezing his hand, hard, “I wasn’t playing around. You complete me. I get the situation with Max. We’ve talked about it several times over the years, starting before you came on the scene. I’ve always known Forest supported my career and has been responsible for every promotion. Hell, the man even helped me chose my major in college so I’d have more of an edge than being Henry Archer’s son.”

“Just because the Tucker’s marry and reproduce young, didn’t mean you wanted in on that tradition,” Jon explained. “Like you, I’m not about to let Commodore Forest or anyone else in Starfleet dictate my future. Whatever it might be, we’ll face it together. Now, I’m asking you to marry me, for me, because I love you and you love me, because I’ve wanted to call you my husband since about a week after your twenty-first birthday party. Your father even gave me his permission to ask, way back then.”

“I guess I’ll keep you, Old Man” a bright smile broke out on Trip’s face, all his irrational fears suddenly disappearing, “with a gold band on your finger that matches the one on mine. And I’ll be speaking with my father next time we’re in Florida.”

The laugher bubbled up. Archer couldn’t stop. Although their relationship had taken a sudden turn, their first few months together had been a steep learning curve. They’d had to juggle their careers, the age difference and Trip’s ability to flirt with anyone. And, it seemed, Starfleet’s manipulation for the last year. At least Jon now knew what bent Trip out of shape and could reassure his fiancée about the future.

“It wasn’t that funny,” Trip looked forlorn.

“Finish your beer, promise me you won’t keep anything like this to yourself again,” Archer knocked back the dregs in his bottle, “and let’s go home. I think we have a private celebration and then some planning to do. Now I got you to finally say yes, we’re not going to wait long to make this official. Even if I have to drag up the aisle, you are going along with the Tucker tradition and getting hitched before you turn twenty-four.”

“It’s twenty-five, and forget the dam beer,” Trip was already out of his chair, pulling Jon off his seat. Keeping a vice like grip on his Fiancée, this was one-night Lt. Tucker couldn’t care less about keeping their relationship low profile. “There’s something else I want to wrap my mouth around,” he threw over his shoulder, “Commander Archer-Tucker.”

“Oh, no,” Jon moaned as they cleared the door on the way to the transport station. “This might be the twenty second century, but there is no way I’m changing my name. The kids can become hyphenated.”

Stopping dead in his tracks, Trip’s blue eyes became hard. He didn’t stand up to Jon often. When he did, it was not negotiable. “Charles Tucker IV is not up for discussion!”

“Relax Trip,” once again Archer shook his head and grinned. “I don’t expect you to change your name either. If we’re lucky enough to get those three kids one day, we will work it out then.” Placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, Jon whispered into his ear, “just don’t think about calling one of them Jonathan.”

Huffing as they resumed their course to the transport station, Tucker ran, quite literally, into Commodore Forest on his way to the 602. The expression on his face drove the trio back into the bar. Ordering a round of drinks, they sat in stony silence until Ruby delivered their beers.

“Why,” Trip finally managed to ask when it seemed Max was trying to find words to explain his sudden arrival, “did you pretend you didn’t know me today in front of the Vulcan delegation?”

“Appearances,” Max stated with a harsh sigh.

“What you’re really saying,” Jon added, reading the situation correctly, “is you knew Trip would shoot his mouth off and you agreed with him but didn’t want to be seen doing so.”

“Something like that,” Max sighed, again, this time sadly. “This project was in a very precarious positon before today’s incident. Unfortunately, there is a reason for my being here. At the urging of the Vulcan Advisory Council, Starfleet Command has decided to put the NX programme on hold, indefinitely. The order came directly from Admiral Black’s office. They want to go back to the drawing board and develop a new engine from scratch.”

Going from such a high to low within half an hour made Jon wonder at the vergency of life. Across the table, Forest’s silence created a mournful atmosphere. Wishing the man he considered a father would just leave, Archer glanced at Trip. His mind active behind those shuttered orbs, Jon knew that expression. He needed to get his boy…fiancée alone so they could talk. All that they feared after learning about the Rhenium seemed to be coming to fruition.

Max drained his beer and left, much to Archer’s relief. However, A.G. had been waiting for the opportunity to approach his rival. The conversation ended in a fight when Tucker opened his mouth and accused Robinson of pilot error. A.G. would never admit to anything of the sort. Archer attempted to cool the growing animosity, but it spilt over into violence.

“I told you,” Trip stood over his opponent after getting in three good punches, “you try coming between me and Jon, you’d pay the price. Just be thankful you only lost a couple of teeth. Come on,” Tucker grabbed his fiancée by the hand and pulled him out of the bar, “we’re going home.”

“Trip,” Jon approached the couch carefully, an ice filled cloth in one hand to help with the swelling on his lovers face. They hadn’t said a word on the transport home as Tucker silently fumed. Personally, Archer thought Robinson had been spoiling for this particular fight and used the ill will between himself and Trip as a catalysis, only he’d come off second best.

“I don’t want to hear it, Jon,” Trip warned, snatching the ice pack and placing it over his eye with a low hiss. “That sonofabitch has had that coming for years.”

“You won’t get any argument out of me,” he soothed, taking the seat and placing an arm around Trip’s tense shoulders. “A Commander hitting a Commander, not a problem. A Lieutenant.”

“He won’t say a thing,” Tucker grinned. The effect was spoilt by half his face not reacting as expected, “especially when you speak to him tomorrow about my plan.”

“You’ve got an idea?” Jon sighed. “I could see it in your expression and the way you wanted Max gone. Come on, tell me. I know from that look I’m not going to like it.”

“It’s going to take Forest and Robinson’s help to pull off,” Tucker cautioned. “Besides, if we do this, it could mean the end of our careers, but at least your daddy’s engine will fly.”

“I’m listening,” Robinson stated, still pulling his belongings out of his locker the next morning. When Archer stopped talking, A.G. asked, “you been to see Forest yet? Or are you waiting for strength in numbers?”

“Trip’s talking to Jeffery’s, Wu and Hess. He’s confident they’ll help,” Jon admitted.

“I think Duvall will want to be in on this,” Robinson considered. “Gardiner’s by the book and wouldn’t risk what’s left of his career. But, we’ll have to act and soon. By the end of the week, most of the staff will be reassigned.”

“Lt. Tucker wants to go tonight,” Jon informed. “It makes sense, both the night flight and timing. The Vulcan’s won’t be watching as they think we’re all completely demoralised after yesterday.”

“You telling me your boyfriend….”

“Fiancée,” Jon corrected. “Yes, Trip confessed to deliberately baiting you and making it look as if the NX failure was the reason. He’s wanted to knock you on your arse for a while, especially hitting on him. This gave him a good excuse without the repercussions.”

“That was two years ago,” Robinson sounded astounded.

“He’s got a long memory,” Archer chuckled. “So, you in?”

“Hell, yes,” A.G. smiled evilly. “I’ll talk to Duval. We need the entire team to meet before we try this.”

“Let’s see if who else joins our little revolution,” Archer warned. “Then we go to Forest. We need him and his launch codes or we won’t get the Beta off the ground.”

Three hours later, one captain, three commanders, one lieutenant and two ensigns entered the office of a commodore with a fool proof and fool hardy plan. Max Forest looked at them, examining their determination and dedication and knew he was in. He knew his backing would make the difference. He also knew any comeback would be on his head. He had the most to lose and, alternatively, the most to gain.

“Do you recall a discussion about a cup,” the Commodore locked his gaze with Tucker, knowing this strategy came from the young man.

“China,” Jon responded, “Bone, delicate and much loved. If I recall, the contents were less important than the vessel. Isn’t that the issue here? The engine sound, it was the other systems that let it down. We need irrefutable proof of that fact.” Commander Archer didn’t dare mention the other factors he’d uncovered, causing the Vulcan’s to want this project terminated at any cost.

“You will be piloting the Beta, Commander Archer,” Forest ordered. He’d chosen Robinson to avoid cries of nepotism and keep Jon from further Vulcan scrutiny. Max knew he’d made a major mistake with the result. “Lt. Tucker, you’re in charge of the intermix calculations and feeding that data to Commander Robinson. I want two pilots in that cockpit, checking every system twice. This has to work, or we will all be out of a job, some of us more permanently than others.”

“Unless,” Trip stepped forward with a bold suggestion, “I send an official report to Admiral Yamamoto as the NX beta is launched, followed by our results in real time. He won’t be able to refute that.”

“You’re that confident?” Forest demanded.

“Yes, Sir,” Trip offered. The men faced off for several very taught seconds.

“We’re launching at 2100 and have a lot of work to get through before then,” the Commodore informed his team. “Jeffery’s, you sure your people can access the telemetry and control centre remotely from the launch hanger without detection until the beta’s in the air?”

“Absolutely,” Arron responded.

“I’ll start the deception with the New Berlin tracking station. Let’s get on with this people,” Forest sighed. Max knew, even if they proved their point, there would be some major repercussions, if only to make it look good to the Vulcan’s. “Good luck and dismissed,” he offered as they filed out of his office to their various tasks, readying for the flight in five hours.

_Either way_ , the commodore theorised, _whether it be a success or failure, security will be escorting us to a holding cell to await our punishment. I just hope Lt. Tucker is able to get a communique to Admiral Yamamoto. That might be out only saving grace. I’m beting the careers of everyone on this mission, and staking the future of Humanities exploration of the universe. I hope the result is worth it._


	26. Citations: September 2143

The NX Beta test team met again, in the same conference room which saw Commander Jonathan Archer and Lt. Charles Tucker banished to the _Al-Biruni_ a year ago. After security rounded up the ground crew and retrieved the pilots, they had been taken to the brig. Placed in different cells, any communication between them was shut down by the guard detail. No one knew what happened to Commodore Forest. It seemed he was being held in a separate location.

Fleet Admiral Neoga Yamamoto received Lt. Tucker’s communiqué at exactly 2100 hours. A little over ten minutes later, he contacted the Complex’s security team while watching the real time information on a PAD. He orders had been simple. Watch and wait for his signal, at which time the dissidents were to be held for questioning. He needed to establish the validity of Lt. Tucker’s calculations before deciding how to proceed.

Six hours after the experiment commenced, it concluded with startlingly positive results. Feeling vindicated, Yamamoto let the seven members of the team cool their heels while he considered the ramifications of this event and what to do with the major players. Around lunch time, he ordered his private transport prepared. Yamamoto had a plan, he would use this incident, starting with soon to be Admiral Forest. Sauntering into the Maxwell’s office, Neoga’s personal aid handed him a cup of tea as he took the seat behind Forest desk.

“How old do you think I am?” Yamamoto asked lightly, before taking a sip from his much-loved cup.

“Would you like me to be truthful, Sir,” Forest asked in a slightly confused tone, “or should I given in gracefully and lie?”

Laughing easily, Yamamoto placed said cup very carefully at his left elbow and scrutinised the man standing before him. Indicating the security detail could leave, he lent back into the comfortable chair. “I am intrigued. Perhaps we could start with the truth.”

“From your record,” Forest answered carefully, “I know you were born in the post atomic horror; therefore, you would be close to retirement.”

Letting out another chuckle, Neoga turned suddenly serious. “Retirement. Old men like me do not retire, Admiral. We gracefully fade away, with our chosen successor firmly in place.”   
  


“I, like many others, have always suspected you’re more youthful brother-in-law would receive this post,” Max responded cautiously. Now was not the time to further offend the Fleet Admiral, when it seemed he’d gotten off lightly. Commodore Maxwell Forest knew he could be charged with treason over the NX beta. Not only would his career be forfeit, but, if Starfleet chose to prosecute him to the full extent, he could be handed a death by firing squad. However, it seemed that was not to be his fate. Yet, a promotion could only spell trouble. Max had an idea of the portfolio he would be undertaking and began, metaphorically speaking, shaking in his boots.

“Ah, yes, Daniel,” Yamamoto once again picked up his cup and sipped, as if an indication of the conversation to come. “He does not have the heart for the hard decisions. Admiral Leonard’s strength lie, elsewhere. I hope you will come to understand his usefulness to Starfleet in time. Indeed, I believe Captain Layton fulfils much the same role.”

“A surprisingly astute man,” Forest agreed.

Allowing an eyebrow to rise, Yamamoto offered, “walk with me. The fun is about to commence.”

Nodding, Max Forest noticed the choregraphed dance. The personal assistant came into his office as if summoned and collected the much loved and half-drunk cup. A security escort formed around the Fleet Admiral as they exited the room. Making their way to the meeting room, the rest of the traitorous NX Beta test team joined them. No one spoke, but several astounded expressions told their own story.

On entering the conference room, the Fleet Admiral gave Forest an old-fashioned salute and half smile but hung back so he could make a grand entrance at his leisure. Admiral Black’s enraged face and the platoon of security officers stated the Vulcan’s had already been informed of their successful flight and didn’t like the fact. However, before Gregory Black could open his mouth to start berating the officers, Fleet Admiral Yamamoto, now joined by Vice Admiral Manny Coto and Rear Admiral Daniel Leonard marched into the room, their faces like thunder clouds.

“Gentlemen,” Neoga’s displeasure echoed in his tone. Taking a seat at the head of the table, he glared when the other admirals attempted to do the same, forcing them to remain standing at his pleasure. “You have created a very serious situation which has made my life difficult to say the least, not to mention kept me up all night and forced this meeting before I face a disciplinary hearing at the Vulcan’s pleasure. On the one hand you are to be congratulated for showing initiative and demonstrating that Henry Archer’s engine works beyond doubt. On the other, I would hate to tally the number of rules and regulations that have been broken tonight. That being said, there must be commendations and consequences for your actions.”

“I have enough time to think carefully on this matter, since receiving Lt. Tucker’s initial report several hours ago,” Yamamoto confided. “Captain Jeffery’s, Commander Wu, Ensigns Hess and Wang, this incident will go on your permanent record with two citations. One for ingenuity and resourcefulness, the other for insubordination and recommendation that you not be considered for promotion within the next two years. You will continue to report to your current postings and are dismissed from duty until tomorrow. I suggest you go home, get some sleep and think very carefully on the rest of your careers.”

Several astounded “Yes, Sir,” echoed around the room before the engineers departed as quickly as possible. They knew they’d gotten off lightly. Neither Wu nor Jeffery’s expected a promotion in the near future so the citation didn’t affect them. Hess and Wang’s careers had been stalled, but would be recoverable in the future.

“Commanders Archer, Duval and Robinson, you are suspended without pay or privilege for three months. Captain Gardiner will have the next NX test flight. Dismissed, gentlemen,” Neoga waved them away. Once the pilots departed, Yamamoto turned to his nemesis. An almost gleeful expression on his face. “Admiral Black, removed your personal effect from your office. You will transfer to Vulcan as Starfleet’s attaché as you seem to prefer Vulcan company and do not have the confidence of your staff at the Warp Five Complex. I expect a security escort while you vacate as you cannot be trusted. Vice Admiral Forest, you will take over those duties left by Ambassador Gregory Black effective immediately, including the for mentioned citations, which will also grace your personnel file. Forest, await further instructions in your **_new_** office. Admirals, you are dismissed.”

Swallowing through the lump in this throat, Trip wondered what was coming. In his report, he’d confessed to being the mastermind behind this stunt, therefore taking the entirety of the blame. Although Max Forest promotion seemed like a reward, it was anything but. It put the new Vice Admiral in a very precarious position. He would need to weigh progress against politics, temper innovation with inertia and attempt productivity when the Vulcan’s wanted stagnation. It also meant he was in the prefect position to aid Jon’s career.

Eyeing the young man, Fleet Admiral Yamamoto indicated the chair at his side. Taking the hint and the seat even more gingerly, Lt. Tucker had never felt so exposed. The silence grew heavy, but before Trip could break, Neoga spoke.

“What am I to do with you, Dr. Tucker,” Yamamoto shook his head. The use of his academic title gave Trip an idea of where this discussion was headed. His punishment would be subtler than his colleagues. “On the one hand you are brilliant, saving a project doomed to failure before it began. On the other, you antagonise our closes allies.”

“Burry me at MIT,” Trip suggested with a casual shrug, when he felt anything but. The politics behind this were astounding and far reaching. Lt. Tucker had put a very large spanner in the Vulcan’s plans. Trip understood he’d have to pay the price for such interference. “I’m sure the Vulcan’s want the calculations reworked for the next year before they let another pilot anywhere near the cockpit of the NX Delta, even though we know that engine works.”

“I believe that would be a fitting punishment, Lt. Commander,” teased the Admiral. “I’m not sure I should reward you with that title until you have done your penance in the eyes of the Vulcan’s. Six months, I want those calculations completed to **_my_** satisfaction by then. I also want this project moving forward. Let us agree, Dr. Tucker, that your responsibilities and privileges won’t be suspended, but a change in circumstance might be best for all concerned. How does temporary civilian consultant sound while you’re on sabbatical. I believe it is time you completed a post doctorial fellowship. Professor Sying has been hounding me about it for two years.”

Feeling vindicated, Trip decided to push his limits. “Any chance of a month’s leave before starting my new assignment, Sir. We haven’t set a date, but the sooner the better as far as I’m concerned.”

Suddenly roaring with laughter, Neoga wiped his eyes. “I wondered what it would take. It seems Commander Robinson’s accident achieved more than my brutal hints over the last two years. Permission granted, Doctor, but I want you back at MIT in two weeks, not four. Don’t forget to invite Admiral Forest. He would never forgive you or Commander Archer.”

“I’ll try to remember to include the other grooms’ side of the family, Sir,” Trip found his heart lighter than it should have been. Next, he’d have to tackle Dr. Sying because there was no way Jon would agree to staying with Tanamil and her family for the next six months. “Just wondering, Admiral, does this new post come with married quarters, seeing as my significant other’s privileges have been withdrawn.”

“I’m sure something can be arranged, Dr. Tucker,” Yamamoto stated. “I believe Starfleet has consultant accommodation close to your new posting.”

“Speaking of arrangements,” Trip approached the subject carefully. “Rhenium…”

“Yes,” Neoga’s expression became hard.

“I’ve been thinking, there might be a way,” holding his breath, Trip could see the instantaneous hunger squashed, “to expediate the mining process. However, you’ll have to speak with my father and brother...”

“Are you holding Starfleet to ransom, Mr. Tucker?” Yamamoto demanded, cutting in before Trip could finish.

“No, Sir,” Trip’s posture became straight and his expression serious. “I might have mentioned future limitation in antimatter production to my family, who just happen to sit on the board of Tucker Technical Industries.”

“Just how long have Chuck, Charlie and James been working on this project?” the Admiral asked in a deceptively soft tone.

“I’m not at liberty to give away that information, Sir, not that my Granddaddy, Daddy or brother talk about business around me. That would be a conflict of interest. However,” Trip made the Fleet Admiral wait, his gaze indicating Lt. Tucker had learnt a lot about politics and how to play them, in the last year, “I’d say the initial conversation occurred after going to Pluto.”

“Get your wedding sorted and the honeymoon over within two weeks, Dr. Tucker. I don’t want to see you until you have those calculations complete. As to your family,” Neoga couldn’t believe he’d been played, “I’ll be negotiating this contract personally. You may tell your younger brother that his efforts in tutoring you have paid off.”

“I’m sure the youngest CEO of Tucker Technical will be pleased with such high praise,” Trip couldn’t help the parting shot. A year ago, after that conversation with Mia Forest, Trip enlisted his brothers help while Jon studied for his master’s degree. They’d been meeting once a month so Lt. Tucker could develop a new set of skills. After the stunt with the NX beta, followed by this revelation, Yamamoto wouldn’t tolerate failure. If he wanted his commission back, and possibly that of his soon to be new husband’s, Charles Tucker III knew he’d have to work his tail off for the next six months. He’d really pissed the Fleet Admiral off.

“You what?” Jon exploded.

Commander Jonathan Archer had been marched from the boardroom to this locker and allowed to clear it out under supervision. He’d then been escorted to the transport pad. Expecting Lt. Tucker to be on the same shuttle, Jon didn’t let his disappointment, or worry show. Hours passed without word, causing his concern to escalate to near panic. If his punishment reflected his crime, Yamamoto would know Trip had conceived the entire mission and his penalty would be severer.

Now seated on the couch in their apartment, his fiancée finally walked through the door a few minutes ago. Dropping onto the couch beside him, Trip sighed, heavily. Jon didn’t need to ask; the story came out as if Tucker suffered verbal diarrhea. To say Jonathan Archer wasn’t impressed was obvious by his loud exclamation and expression. 

Sighing, Trip explained again, “have been meeting with Jamie first Tuesday of the moment while you were at your master’s tutorial. He’s been teaching me about business while playing chess. He said it’s a necessary skill for anyone, learning to anticipate the unexpected.”

“I got that and the reason why. I’m going to have some choice words for Mia Forest next time we get together. I was referring to MIT,” Jon’s tone vibrated with fury. “Six months, Trip.”

“We’ll be together for at least a few months,” Tucker realised Jon’s problem. Finding humour in the situation, he threw an arm around his Fiancée, before teasing, “we could put the wedding off until I return to the Complex.”

“NO,” came the definite response. “There are somethings that are not negotiable for you Trip. Living in different parts of the continent as husbands is not going to happen.”

“I can work on this from home,” Trip cringed, “but I’m going to need all of the spare bedroom.”

Smiling evilly, Jon shook his head. “We could have had a home office years ago, but you stated we needed a guest room.”

Rolling his eyes, Trip’s mind changed gears to put off that conflict a little while longer. “So, wedding.”

“I’ve got the next three months free,” Jon stated sardonically.

“I com’d Lee on the way home,” Trip watched his lover’s response. “I expected to leave a message, but he was up with Mireya, walking the floor because she wouldn’t settle. Anyway,” he gave Jon a quelling look, “I asked him to stand up with me. Their due back in a few days. I think we can arrange a small ceremony for then.”

“Hawaii?” Archer questioned.

“Florida,” Trip sighed, shaking his head as if he didn’t quite know what he wanted to say. “These meetings with Jamie, I’ve realised how special my family is, Jon. I want them at my wedding, but only the immediate Tuckers.”

“I want water,” Archer stated in a determined tone.

“What is it with you and water?” Trip smirked.

“The first time I knew we had a chance was talking about diving,” Jon answered simply. “I think I associate you with water.”

“You know, Uncle Bob’s always threatened to leave me the marina,” Trip suggested.

“Perfect,” Jon agreed, his joyful expression followed by a long, lingering kiss.

“No, Old Man,” Trip pulled away before this could get physical. “We have two weeks to arrange a wedding, get in a honeymoon and move to Massachusetts.”

“You’d better com your sister first,” Jon touched a still tender cheek. “That face is going to spoil the pictures. Surely she can do something with the bruising. I hear there’s a new device called a dermal regenerator.”

Giving his partner a disparaging look, Trip hoisted himself off the couch. They’d agreed to a partial home office located in the guest bedroom. It was not as spacious as Jon wanted, but it gave them privacy to make com calls. “I’ll call you when I get to my parents. I wouldn’t want you to miss their reaction.”

“Thanks,” Jon called sarcastically, “I wouldn’t want to miss it either!” Muttering under his breath, Archer flicked to the communications channel on the vid in the living room. Finding Max Forest’s private com, the new Admiral answered immediately. “Trip finally said yes,” was all he needed to say.

“About time,” Forest smiled. “Send me the date and location.”

“Max, what are you doing in Admiral Black’s office?” Jon asked, looking at the view though the floor to ceiling windows.

“Long story,” Forest sighed, “I’ll talk to you later.”

Signing off rather abruptly, Vice Admiral Forest looked across his new desk. Seated on the other side was Fleet Admiral Yamamoto with a wide grin on his lips.

“I told young Dr. Tucker not to forget you,” Neoga stated. “Now, back to business. Tucker Technical Industries, you have head of them?”  
  


Max paled. Of course, anyone in Starfleet above the rank of Captain knew of the global conglomerate. They’d been instrumental in terraforming much of the land devastated by WWIII and introducing new methods of power generation. “Are you saying Trip Tucker is part of that family?”

“Charles Tucker III, son of Charles Tucker Jr, who is the son of the original Charles Tucker, are all engineers,” Neoga said. “The company was founded by the original Charles Tucker and his father, Cyrus, also an engineer, although their specialties differ. They came to the notice of the UESPA seventy years ago and have been a major partner, albeit under different names. I am sure Terraconstructs, Hydroventures, Concepts Architecture all sound familiar. Although the last one belongs to Alice Tucker, Lt Tucker’s mother. Those Tucker men tend to marry young, and to women more than a match for them. Betty Tucker, rest her soul, transformed the fledgling company with her unique brand of politics and finance.” At the intrigued expression on Forest’s face, Yamamoto smiled and said, “Charles Tucker, the originals, wife. I guess that’s were young James gets his acumen.”

“My research on Trip,” Max stated, only to be interrupted.

“Starfleet very deliberately approached Mr. Charles Tucker III in ’38,” Neoga frowned. “We wanted his skill set and leverage into his family’s company. It was obvious his bent was Warp Field Engineering, something we needed on our side. Can you imagine that young man in charge of a Boomer engine room? It wouldn’t be long before their vessels were travelling faster than anything we have.”

“I gather recruiting Lt. Tucker hasn’t worked out quite as you imagined,” Forest could help but see the irony. “Trip’s intelligent and resourceful, that’s what makes him such a good match for Jon. They are similar in many ways, but have enough differences to keep the relationship interesting.”

Making a sound that resembled a harrumph, Neoga agreed. “About a year ago, something sent Lt. Tucker to his brother, who, by the way, has become the youngest CEO of Tucker Technical at twenty, for lessons on how to play politics. His teaching proved more than adequate. It was the same time Lt. Tucker learnt about the Rhenium situation.”

“Rhenium, Sir,” Forest asked, more than a little confused. He knew what the rare metal was used for, but not the undercurrent in the conversation.

“We have a lot to discuss, Admiral,” Yamamoto stated acidly. “Let me start with my expectations, then I will have my staff brief you on the Rhenium situation, amongst others. Firstly, I have sent Dr. Tucker to MIT to work intermix calculations to my satisfaction. He and Commander Archer will be out of the way for the next six months. Find a short-term assignment to keep them together. I have long term plans for their careers. Second, I want this engine ready for manufacture by the end of ’44 and installed by ’46 in our fleet. Third, Lt. Commander Tucker is to head up a new department. He knows of the promotion effective on his return to the Complex but not why. I want a warp 5 engine ready by the end of the decade. Fourth, weekly meeting in my office at the Preciado, we have much to discuss if you are to follow in my footsteps. I am seventy-nine years of age, Admiral, and have every intention of dropping in harness, much to my much younger wife’s displeasure. There is a lot Starfleet needs to achieve to get humanity ready to reach for the stars. I am not sure I shall live to see Captain Archer and Chief Engineer Tucker take our Warp 5 Starship out. If I am not around, I would like her called _Enterprise_.”

Nodding his head, Max Forest had a lot to think about. “Understood, Sir,” he offered without thinking.

“I’m not sure you do, Admiral,” Neoga stated in a hard tone, “but you will. I am offering you no favours. This position is not a promotion and will place you in the unenviable position where politics must come before any other consideration. You’re backing of the NX Beta demonstrated your ideals lay where humanity requires, that you will act against our Vulcan overlords and that you have the backing of your staff at the Complex. I require someone with this repertoire to ensure my lasting legacy to Human Kind.”

Once Fleet Admiral Neoga Yamamoto departed, Max Forest didn’t have time to contact his wife and inform her of the reason for his overnight stay at the Complex or new position. One aid after another entered his new office, briefing him on several situations he heard rumours about but didn’t have the clearance to be involved in. It seemed his status, along with his title had changed drastically.

“Sir,” his new personal aid, supplied by Yamamoto until he could engage his own, held out a PAD several hours later, “your private transport has arrived. These are your appointments for tomorrow along with any files you need to go over tonight. Mrs. Forest is waiting to be collected from your house. Her staff are currently assisting with the move into the Admiral Quarter. Will there by anything else for the day, Sir.”

“No, dismissed,” Max said as he took the PAD. Sighing, he slumped into his chair and called up his wife’s com. “Mia?”

“Admiral,” she smiled. “I hope you are on that transport, we have dinner at the Yamamoto residence tonight, which is only three houses up the road. I have your new dress uniform ready.”

“Yes, Dear,” Max sighed. Then an idea struck. “You didn’t happen to fill Trip’s head with your antiquated ideas on a wife’s responsibilities, oh, say a year ago.”

“We might have discussed it,” Mia stated, with that look in her eye stating not to interfere. “From what I’ve heard, all rumour of course, so I expect the truth while you dress, he’s taken up the challenge and is playing the game very well indeed. You know I love to tell you I told you so. He will make Jon a very good little wife, in fact, I believe it should have been the other way around. But that what comes of not socialising in the Tucker’s circle.”

“Mia,” Max shook his head, knowing what would come next.

“Don’t worry dearest,” she smirked. “I’ve received the invitation to the wedding from Alice via com this afternoon. We had a nice little chat. I feel the beginnings of a great friendship. Now, get out of that chair and onto your private transport. I expect you home in ten minutes.”

“Yes, Dear,” Max stated sardonically, shaking his head as the screen went blank. _There are times, Mia Forest, I wonder who’s the boss in our household. I thank my father for introducing us every day. I would not have been in this position without you at my side, even if there are times I could happily strangle you for your machinations. I hope you’re right and Trip is as much of an asset to Jon as he’ll need to be. Captain is only a step along the path for the man I consider like a son._


	27. I Give My Hand

“Jonathan Archer,” standing on the end of the dock, the sun setting over the water of the Keys, Trip’s hands clasped those of his soon to be partner in life. “Today I marry you, the one I will live with, dream with, and love forever. I take you to be my husband. Promising, from this day forward, to cherish you, look with joy down the path of our tomorrows, knowing we will walk it together, side by side, hand in hand, and heart to heart.”

Jon almost let out a tear, hearing Trip’s chosen vow. The inflection in his voice demonstrated his emotions as much as the expression on his features. The walking together had been the catch phrase. It proved their issue over the last year was finally behind them and they wouldn’t allow something so insignificant to come between them again. In the last three days, it seemed all they’d done was talk, especially about the future.

Much to Jon’s displeasure, Charles Tucker followed the ancient family tradition of sleeping at his parents’ house the night before their wedding, without his lover. Archer found his slumber constantly interrupted, missing the body in bed beside him. Still, it gave Jon time to think about today in a way he never would have if they’d kept their daily routine, somehow making it extraordinary.

This afternoon, they arrived separately at the Marina. Dressed in loose, free flowing cotton shirts, khaki shorts and deck shoes, their outfits matched in colour and style. Lizzy managed to get both Jon and Trip to accede to her fashion sense. She’d picked out the wedding clothes in earthy tones that matched the simple decoration on the pier and suited both grooms and their want of an informal ceremony. Not that they’d given her much time, ensuring elaborate paraphernalia remained minimal.

Their guests, standing in a semi-circle around them, had been carefully chosen. Trip’s Mama found tears in her eyes. His Daddy’s arm surrounding his wife. Rory and Vicky, once again heavily pregnant while her significant other held their two-year-old son, Callum, in his arms. Lizzy and James made up the rest of the family on Trip’s side. Lizzy’s boyfriend and Jamie’s Fiancée hadn’t been invited. James had every intention of following the family doctrine of early marriage and parenthood. His wife-to-be was six years his senior. Lt. Pam Nestor would soon be a civilian, giving up her commission at the Complex and starting in the family business. Trip had been responsible for introducing the couple, in a roundabout way. They’d taken the relationship from there.

Uncle Bob offered his marina and services for the impromptu wedding. He presided over at least three weddings each week, but this one was especially close to his heart. Three days ago, Trip and Jon had been in that meeting which stalled Archer’s career for the next three months. It took Lt. Tucker exactly six hours to put this ceremony together and another twelve to close down their apartment. The next day they’d transferred to Florida. Not enough time, Trip would joke in the coming years, to allow his mother to plan anything ‘big’, which was just what the pair envisaged for their special day.

Newly promoted Admiral Forest and his wife stood on the other groom’s side. Peter and Lee as their official witnesses, necessitated Fayton Wagner’s attendance. She held six-week-old Mireya, who seemed to be sleeping happily in her mother/aunt’s arms. While they had wanted to invite work colleagues to share this most precious day, they decided to host a party on returning to San Francisco. Undoubtedly the same would be true of the Tucker extended clan in the coming months. 

“Charles Tucker,” Jon started his vows when Uncle Bob nodded in his direction, “Trip, this day, before our family and friends, with joy in my heart, I pledge myself to you as your husband, promising to love you, to cherish our moments together, for now and forever.”

“May I say,” Bob smiled, indicating Lee should approach with another Tucker tradition, rings made of precious metal, “on behalf of all those gathered here, it’s about time. Now, Jon and Trip have decided on formal vows as they exchanged time-honoured and traditional symbols of their joined future. Gold bands that are a visual reminder of a never ending and priceless love between committed partners in life. Mr. Archer,” a nod toward the red pillow, Jon picked up the band and took Trips left hand in his own. Engraved on the inside, their initials and todays date, so they would never forget the promises made in the coming years. Sliding the ring into place, he saw nothing but the devotion in his lover’s sparkling blue eyes as Bob asked "Will you have this man to be your husband, to live together in marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

"I will." Jon stated clearly.

Trip soon had his turn. The simple ceremony complete, the crowd clapped as Bob offered, “the moment I’m sure we’ve all be waiting for. You may now kiss to seal your marriage.”

It wasn’t more than a sweet touching of lips. Marriages needed to be witnessed for legal reasons under the United Earth Government stipulations. However, they no longer held the significance of earlier periods in Earth’s history. More a civil formality if one wished, there were no waiting periods, blood test or other requirements. Many chose not to enter into the archaic tradition, as their conjugal and legal rights and responsibilities were assumed after living with another person for a period of time.

Jon and Trip knew the real celebration would take place on the yacht named ‘Moonlight’ as they sailed the crystal-clear waters of the Keys for the next ten days and nights. Uncle Bob’s Marina, a business that would one day belong to Trip, gifted the pair their honeymoon, after hearing Archer complain that they’d never been diving off Florida as Trip promised when they first met. They’d be able to explore the underwater territory to their hearts content. After the hastily put together dinner at a local restaurant, also part of the Uncle Bob’s Marina complex, they settled into their birth.

“And you though our quarters of _Al Biruni_ were small,” Jon grumbled playfully.

The 15-metre yacht boasted an outdoor seating area around the old-fashioned Captain’s wheel and area on the forward deck for sun bathing. Internally, the galley and dining area took up most of the mid-section. Bob’s employees ensured it had been fully stocked so the couple wouldn’t have to stop for supplies. There were sleeping cabins for and aft. Only the one at the bow contained a bed big enough for two. It was barely bigger than a standard double bed, but the newlyweds would make it work. After all, space had been tight on _Al Biruni_.

“Jon,” Trip had already striped, “stop your grousing. It’s our wedding night and you’re wearing too much. For the next ten days and nights, I expect that gold band on your finger and nothing else. Do I make myself clear?”

Smirking, Archer shucked his clothing. “Yes, Sir,” he responded sarcastically.

“Face down on that bed, Husband. I been told Vicky and Rory suppled a basket of massage oils and other treats. I was hoping for edible chocolate body paint,” Trip located the package beside their bunk. His eureka moment came seconds later when he pulled out the tub of brown goo. “My sister knows my tastes. Rocky road. I’m going to enjoy this almost as much as you, Jon. Now, your hands are to stay above your head, unless you want me to tie them with these silk scarves. Vicky sure thought of everything.”

“I think we’ll talk about that,” Archer warned, “before going into unexplored territory.”

“Well, the obey didn’t last long,” Trip teased. “What, you don’t trust your husband?”

“With my life,” Jon mocked, “but not rocky road flavoured anything. I’ve seen you eat an ice cream cone filled with your favourite, Trip. Are you trying to kill me?”

Just the thought of what that tongue could do with the melting confection had Archer hard. If his hands were restrained, Tucker’s attentions would be too much to handle after the emotional day. This first time, he wanted hard and fast. Jon planned to take his time and draw out their pleasure for the rest of the night. Moving the boat away from the dock would wait until tomorrow.

“Not kill you,” Trip smirked wickedly, “maybe just torture you a little.”

Pulling his husband into his arms, Jon whispered into Trip ear, “next time, Babe. Right now, slow and deliberate is not what I want.”

Tucker didn’t get the chance to answer. Giving into to Jon, Trip would later agree, was the best decision he could have made. When he finally got to experiment with the rocky road paint, it was put to good use. Their ten days of bliss came to an end far too soon. Climbing off the boat, sun browned and relaxed, Uncle Bob came to meet them.

“Well, don’t you two look like you’ve had a fun time,” he teased. “I’ve set aside my best table. You should have about enough time to enjoy the surf and turf before getting on that transport to Massachusetts.”

“Only if you’ll join us,” Jon smirked. “Had enough alone time with this reprobate. Besides, I hear you’ve got a lot more stories to tell me. Charlie, I guess I should call him dad now, said I should ask you about a turtle with bubble butt.”

Joining in the humour, Trip answered, “that’s one you have to hear, Jonny. Uncle Bob tells it much better than me.”

“You’re on,” Bob indicated they should get their bags and follow him. Once they reached the restaurant, a human service person took their belongings, stashing them in a back room. “I would have thought you were taking more than that to your new apartment.”

“No need,” Trip answered, allowing his husband to take in the feel of the old-fashioned, wooden shack perched on the edge of the dock, with historical pictures in black and white liberally littering the walls. The last time they’d come into the restaurant, Jon had been too distracted by their wedding reception to notice. Tourist came just to see the place, went home with their bellies full and taste buds wishing for more. “I’m officially on sabbatical. It comes with Starfleet accommodation so we only need to take our personal items. I already shipped anything we’ll need and our apartment in San Francisco is being held as we haven’t been reassigned permanently.”

“Dr. Sying tried to get us to stay with her,” Jon added, shaking his head. “When that didn’t work, she talked me into completing my masters full time while I cool my heels in Boston. You know, I grew not far from there. We’re going into winter and I’m wondering how Trip’s going to take the snow and ice. I guess I’ll have to stick around for the entire six months, just to keep you warm.”

“I’ll never understand the younger generation,” Bob shook his head sadly, herding them into the main dining room. “Always going here and there, in search of adventure when it’s right at your doorstep. Come on, our tables waiting, and so are my stories. Did I tell you about the time Trip took apart the motor on my personal yacht, the one you just sailed around the Keys? It’s vintage, pre-eugenics, by the way. I had some very important guests from the family company that needed entertaining while Charlie sold them on some idea or the other. So, we get to the dock, and young Trip, couldn’t have been more than ten, has my brand new, ultra-modern engine in a million pieces.”

“There aren’t a million parts on that engine,” Trip added, pulling out his chair.

“Beside the point,” Jon waved away the interruption. Turning back to Uncle Bob, he indicated the man should finish, even if the story had been exaggerated slightly.

“Well, he looks up, introduced himself as Master Charles Tucker the Third, apologies for not shaking their hand because of the oil and tells then he’s learning the family business. All in his best southern twang with charisma just oozing out of every pore. His branch of engineering will be warp mechanics but he’s starting on smaller engines to get the hang of this manufacturing thing. Oh, and did they want to watch him put the engine back together in seven and a half minutes, timed if you please.”

Chuckling, Jon asked, “did he?”

“With twenty something seconds to spare. Well, young Charlie had his sale before those snooty business types stepped onto the yacht. Seems,” Bob reached over and ruffled his great nephew’s hair, “they liked the work ethic and longevity of the family company. Even asked to wait while Trip cleaned up so he could join them.”

“Bubble But,” Jon reminded, happy to sit and hear Bob talk.

“After we order. I’ll just go and speak with chef personally,” Bob announced. “How do you like your steak, son?”

“Same as Trip,” Jon smiled, before adding dryly, “I might make most of the meals, but apparently I’ve been eating my meat over cooked my entire life.”

“I’ll stop by the cellar and bring back a bottle that will go with dinner,” Bob promised before marching off.

“You didn’t tell me about continuing your masters full time and keeping my company at MIT,” Trip accused in a heated whisper. Crossing his arms, he glared. “No more secrets, remember.”

“Does that also mean,” Jon found the situation humours but didn’t dare crack a smile, “no more surprises? I didn’t tell you, because I haven’t heard back from Admiral Forest yet. I was going to let you know the moment I had something to say. Honestly, Trip, I thought you’d be pleased. This way we can stay in Massachusetts, away from Vulcan prying eyes, for six months. I’ll return with my master’s finished and you’ll have your post doc done. Win-win, if you ask me.”

“When you look at it that way,” Trip considered, unfolding his hostile posture, “it’s not much of a punishment. I been thinking about that, and something’s not right.”

“More like manipulation,” Jon agreed. “As you said, let’s make it work for us. Right now, it seems our goals coincide with Starfleet. Until that changes, lets ride this wave.”

“So,” Bob returned, the newlyweds looking deeply into each other’s eyes and his heart mourning the loss of his own love. His family only ever guessed at his sexuality, so Emil had remained a business partner, even if they’d lived together until he passed away five years ago. “Are you ready to hear about a turtle called Bubble But? Trip, open the wine, Manny’s got enough guest to serve.”

Rolling out of the restaurant an hour later, Trip couldn’t help the grin of pure pleasure. Coming to the marina always made him feel carefree. Between Uncle Bob’s company, the salty breeze and the constant lap of water against the pier, life seemed perfect. It appeared the Jon felt the same way.

“Let’s do this every year,” Tucker announced. “Come back here and hijack Uncle Bob’s boat.”

“I’d like that,” Jon smiled. “I think we have time to meet this turtle, before the transport arrives.”

“It took me a year to realise Bubble But was a condition not his name,” Trip shook his head at the recollection. Taking his husband’s hand, Tucker lead them to an area between the restaurant and the shore. A flourishing natural reserve existed for injured wildlife. Looking into the pond from the jetty, Trip pointed out said turtle with a flotation device attached to his shell. “You know, the saddest part of this, Jon? With a tiny genetic manipulation, Bubble But could be cured and released into the wild.”

“The Eugenics War made people aware of the consequences of unchecked experimentation on human beings, Babe,” Jon sighed, the emotion held in that sound drew Trip’s gaze. “If that period of history never happened, Pieter and Lee wouldn’t have to rely on Fayton for children. I read there used to be a technic where the DNA from a man could be injected into an ovum, after removing the woman’s, then fertilization allowed to occur using IVF. The genic combination allowed for both male and female offspring of two men. Those enhanced soldiers were grown in a device designed to simulate a womb. With that kind of technology, Mireya might have required the casing of her aunt’s ovum, but truly been Lee and Pieter’s daughter.”

“You know,” Trip smiled, “I have a feeling, once we get out there, that our kids won’t have to be conceived the same way. I think Fayton spoke with Vicky, about her pregnancy with Mireya and why she did it.”

“Is that why Major O’Shea was looking at me with murderous intent?” Jon teased.

Sighing, Trip heard the shuttle landing and shook his head. There was no way his brother-in-law would let his husband anywhere near his older sister, not even if it meant using artificial insemination so they could expand their family. They’d have more luck with Lizzy. Besides, Trip wanted kids that belonged to both of them. Pieter and Lee’s solution wasn’t for him. Turning way from Bubble But and his friends, Tucker held out his hand. Jon understood and laced their fingers together. They collected their bags and walked towards the beginning of their new life, side by side, hand in hand, and heart to heart.


	28. With All My Heart: November 2143 to June 2144

“Jon” Trip called as he entered their apartment.

Stepping into the assigned Starfleet accommodation in the area known as Cambridge, a suburb of Boston after their short honeymoon, the studio apartment could have doubled as student digs close to MIT’s campus. It was cramped, tawdry and completely unacceptable for two senior officers. One look had Jon calling Tanamil, stating the pictures didn’t do the ‘space’ justice. She’d put them up for three nights without saying a word and onto a good but expensive real estate agent who found then a fully furnished apartment that suited their needs. It had been more expensive than Jon believe possible, which explained Starfleet’s substandard accommodations.

“Not now,” Archer’s slightly frustrated tone echoed from the second bedroom which acted as his work area. A PAD in one hand and cup of what smelt like coffee in the other, Trip removed his boots and padded over softly to see what his husband was up too. The commander obviously found the leadership styles module hard enough without interruptions. Sighing, just the sound of his husband’s voice, let alone the mournful tone, caused him to glance Trip’s way. Tucker half hid in the open doorway to his office, letting Archer know something major had occurred. Jon found the issue immediately. “Where,” he asked, very deliberately putting the cup and PAD down, “is your wedding ring?”

“Well,” Trip scratched the back of his head, before offering the more than slightly out of shape object for observation. “It seems wedding rings and engineers don’t go well together.”

“Tell me your finger was not in that?” Jon demanded. Any thought of continuing the module went out the window as his eyes locked onto his husband. One glance at those crystal-clear orbs and he had his answer. “Hell, Trip…”

“I’ve been to medical and they said it was the band that stopped my finger from being severed completely,” Tucker started to explain, only to be cut off.

“What the hell were you doing?” Jon demanded, rising from his seat and marching over to the hapless engineer still covered in grease.

“I’ve been considering a new control mechanism for the flow of antimatter into the injectors,” he started.

“Short version,” Jon ordered, now standing toe to toe.

Shrugging, Trip stated, “finger slipped and got wedged as the piston engaged.”

“Let me get this straight,” Jon sounded really angry. In truth he was scared witless. “You put your fingers inside a working warp engine.”

“Mock warp engine,” Trip defended with a careless shrug of his shoulders.

“With moving parts that do as much damage at the real thing?” Jon asked rhetorically.

“I guess I didn’t think it through,” Trip suddenly deflated and an unnatural sheen filled his eyes. The _da, you really think_ expression soon left Jonathan Archer’s features. “Question is, what are we going to do? I’ve only been wearing this a month and look what I’ve done to it.”

“Hey, you, come here,” Jon’s tone turned sympathetic as he realised the emotional cost far out weighted the physical for his husband. “We can get another one,” a sudden sob as Trip held on for dear life gave Archer his answer, “or this one re-bent into shape. I guess you’ll have to wear it on a chain around your neck while you’re at work. At least it will be close to your heart and safely hidden under your uniform.”

“I’ll put it back on every night when I get home,” Trip promised.

“Shush,” Jon placed a hand on the back of his husband’s head and wrapped the other around his waist. “It’s nothing that can’t be fixed, unlike a severed finger.”

Several minutes later, Trip pulled away. “You go back to your studying,” he offered, “and I’ll get dinner started. Oh, I booked you a seat on the Starfleet transport back to San Francisco Saturday morning, returning Sunday lunch while I was attending medical.”

“Water Polo night.” Jon had forgotten it was the end of the month with their sudden marriage and honeymoon. “I know Pieter and Lee aren’t around, but don’t you want to come and catch up with the engineering crew.”

“Nah,” Trip shook his head sorrowfully. “Either they aren’t talking to me after the NX Beta situation, or I’m in the dog house for not inviting them to the wedding. I’m going to spend the night with Dr. Sying and her family. Their Beagle’s finally had puppies and the kids are over the moon. Now,” Tucker pointed a finger at the computer with pages of text, “get back to your study so you can play hooky this weekend!”

“My concentration was wavering before this interruption,” Jon sighed heavily, “now it’s completely vanished. I’ll pick up again tomorrow. Let’s go for a run and see if there’s a jeweller in the village. Then we can try that Lebanese place we saw last week when we were looking for somewhere to live.”

Nodding, Trip changed and they were out the door. Taking a path to the river Jon lamented the cost of their apartment’s rent but not the view. A resident’s terrace on the roof gave a panoramic outlook across the Charles River. When Archer found out the name, it became imperative he get at least a glimpse of his husband’s namesake while studying. Although they didn’t really need a second bedroom which Jon quickly turned into his personal office, the apartment also hosted a study nook that Trip used on occasion.

“Trip,” Jon recalled a whispered conversation a little over a week ago. They’d viewed the apartment and returned to the realtor’s office to discuss the details. Taking hold of his husband’s arm, and directing him to a quiet corner, Archer gave into his reservations. “As great as this place is, it’s out of our budget.”

Shaking his head, Trip simply opened his personal com and put it to his ear, proving he was using private mode and Archer wouldn’t like the subject. “Mama, you were right,” Tucker said. Although Jon couldn’t hear Alice’s response, he understood the architect had warned her baby about living expenses and accommodation options in Boston. Unashamedly listening in, Archer heard Trip answer, “yes, we’re with the agent you gave to Dr. Sying and yes, we found something acceptable.”

“More than acceptable,” Jon specified mockingly, giving his husband a narrow look.

“But Jon’s grousing about the cost,” Trip finished.

“Jonathan Archer,” Alice’s started the moment Trip dumped the device in his hand, “we never gave you a wedding present. If you like the apartment as much as I know my son does, then just sign the damn contract and leave the rest to me.”

“Just one question,” Jon had to ask. “Did you design it?”

“Not personally,” Alice answered in a satisfied tone, “but my company did. In fact, we did the whole block but that building is the very high end. We still own several units for business purposes. Charlie and I have stayed there when we visited Trip at MIT. If you haven’t seen 27A, then I suggest you take it on my recommendation. It has a second bedroom for your study and a space for my son as well. I’ll amend the conditions for a six-month lease.”

“Thank you, Mama,” Jon bit out. Handing the com to the realtor, Archer turned to Trip, “you could have told me.”

“I only knew Mama’s company designed the building,” Trip confessed. “I could tell by the façade, so I knew we’d like it. Besides, I actually called to get some of the funds from my trust account released. That’s a conversation for another time, Jon. It’s complicated.”

Mind returning to their run, Jonathan Archer looked around the park and grinned at the man keeping stride with him. Turning right off Magazine Street, they followed the river until Boston University Bridge, where they crossed, heading for The Bay Village. It was one of the few sites in the city that survived the post atomic horrors more or less intact. Destination in sight, Trip slowed to catch his breath.

“Jeweller first,” he grinned happily.

Several shops were already starting to close up for the evening. Lights were igniting in the pedestrian only streets as the dusk deepened. Nodding his agreement, Jon wanted out of the rapidly cooling evening. November days in Boston were short, cloudy and cold. The temperature couldn’t be more than five or six degrees centigrade and they still had the run home in the dark. In the morning, ice would greet the world outside the main bedroom window. In a few months, snow would kiss the ground. Archer recalled his earliest years, growing up in Ithaca. The changing seasons had seemed delightful as a child, until they’d moved to California and a more moderate climate.

It didn’t take long to locate a store, purchase a chain and have Trip’s ring resized and shaped. Happy to finally have the band on his finger where it belonged and a sturdy necklace hidden under his clothing, Tucker pushed his husband out of the shop. They wandered around the village, locating the eatery quickly.

“I think we better take a standing table in the undercover, heated area,” Jon suggested, making a sniffing sound. They didn’t stink, exactly, but the workout had been vagarious.

“I’ll order,” Trip teased with smirked, “as some of us can hold our exercise better than others.”

When the food came out, Jon discovered Trip had never tried this cuisine, so ordered a plate of traditional favourites and main to share, along with a beer each. While eating, he finally found the courage to ask about the trust fund. Tucker smirked while taking his time to answer.

“Mama set them up the moment we arrived,” he answered easily. “Vicky got hers the day of her wedding. James will get his next year, not that he needs it with the salary he’s making as Tucker Technical’s CEO. You know he brought a house on the same street as Mama and Daddy last month and he has an apartment in Miami near the head office. Oh, and we have to go back to Florida last week in February as they’ve finally set a date. Mama’s happy, because it’s my birthday as well, but you’re going to have to miss one of your water polo matches. The receptions on Saturday night.”

“I’m surprised your mother hasn’t organised our post wedding celebration,” Jon mocked.

“Keep your shirt on, Jonny,” Trip returned with a wide grin, “it’s coming. I’d say she’s waiting to get Christmas, New Year and Jamie’s wedding out of the way first. That means were safe until at least March. I’d say it’ll happen on the weekend we’re supposed to go home for your birthday.”

“Your mother,” Jon couldn’t help the chuckle escaping, “waiting almost a year. What planet are you living on, Trip?”

Giving Archer a malevolent glare, Tucker had to agree. It didn’t mean he had to like it.

“I gather Lizzy will get her trust fund when she marries,” Jon questioned.

“I’m not sure why,” Trip looked astonished, “but Lizzy has to wait for her first child.”

“What about you?” Jon asked. “We married a month ago.”

“Mama changed the terms when I started school so I could request funds when required,” Trip frowned. “I asked her why the night before our wedding. I never knew my parents thought I’d end up with a man. But that’s not the reason. She knew I’d never go into the family company and felt I’d be too independent to ask, even if I needed to draw on the funds for something. So, she made me promise when I started at MIT, that if I ever needed anything, I’d com her so I could access the funds. I never did.”

“You travel light,” Jon commented, recalling the two boxes and one bag Trip brought when he’d moved in.

“Always have,” Trip shrugged. “Material things don’t mean that much to me. Apart from my camera and clothing, I’ve never had the time or room to collect objects. Besides,” he grinned, offering a kofta ball for his husband to taste, “engines were always a little bit big and messy to take apart in my bedroom as a kid. Dr. Sying would have murdered me for trying it, although her husband and kids would have helped.”

“I gather,” Jon teased, “you took every appliance in the house, or apartment in our case, apart to either see how it worked or improve it?”

“Yep,” Trip grinned. “You telling me the coffee machine isn’t better since I rearranged it?”

“You won’t get any arguments from me,” Archer stated, looking at the empty plates before them. “If you’re finished, I think it’s time to go home, before it gets any colder.”

“Last one home…..” Trip started, only to be interrupted by Archer’s hand on his arm.

“You are not making this a competition,” Jon commanded. “Not after all that food.”

“You can’t order me around, Old Man,” Trip smirked. “Technically, neither of us are Starfleet at the moment!”

“Call it pennants for your little escapade today,” Jon returned suggestively. “But I will let you warm me up, when we get home. Starting with a shower.”

“Trip,” Jon yelled. He’d been in bed reading and waiting for his husband to join him. Sliding beneath the covers, Tucker’s cold feet met warm calves, causing the shout.

“You recall Australia,” Tucker stated, trying to hide his shit eating grin.

“I do now,” Archer grumbled, “and the reason I make you go to be before me. Those feet should come with a terror warning, they’re freezing. I’ll be glad when winter is over or we’re back in San Francisco.”

“I love the fact you’re always so warm,” Trip responded happily, moving his feet to a new, more inviting location.

“At least the last two weeks I haven’t had to put up with this,” Jon exhaled with a hiss.

“No,” Trip once again teased, “you had to put up with Christmas dinner with my family, the big Tucker New Year’s bash and planning for Jamie’s wedding. Tell me, how did Admiral and Mrs. Forest get invited this year?”

“Mia Forest cultivates friends,” Jon stated blandly.

“Especially one’s that aid her husband’s career,” Trip responded dryly. “Don’t think for a moment Mama, Daddy and especially Jamie, did guess her intent. Mama asked about them and I said they were the closest people you have to family. I also told her how Max is helping your career along.”

“And?” Jon asked.

“And what?” Trip mocked drily. “You don’t think my Mama would do the same in the situation were reversed?”

“Oh, no, of course not,” came the satirical response. “With Tucker Technical behind you, not to mention your Mama’s company and rather dominant personality, why would you need anyone else in your corner.” Before Trip could answer, heatedly at any perceived slight, Jon moved so he was half on top of his husband. “Enough talk for one night. I think I have a way to warm you up.”

The months, and seasons, passed quickly. Studying remotely from Sandford, Jonathan Archer managed to enrol fulltime in the autumn and winter terms, leaving him with a single project to complete before conferring his degree. The Spring term about to start, and his enforced penance, along with three months sabbatical nearly up, he understood Trip still had a couple of months grace to get his calculations to Fleet Admiral Yamamoto.

Over dinner one night in late March, Jon started the conversation he hoped would keep them in Boston until June. “How much longer,” he questioned, “before you complete your assignment?”

“Maybe another six weeks to a couple of months. I didn’t get started on those calculations until mid-October,” Trip returned. “Officially, I have an appointment with Admiral Yamamoto on the first of May. That all depends on how much trouble the Vulcan make between now and then. At the moment, their all over my work and slowing things down.”

“I have to enrol for the next quarter in the next few days,” Jon informed. “I was wondering if you wanted to say in Boston for another couple of months. The term ends in mid-June and it’ll be warm enough to go hiking and camping.”

Taking a fork full of spaghetti, chewing and thinking, Trip’s eyes suddenly lit up. “That’d work for me. We’d have to call Mama and see if we can stay in the apartment a few extra weeks.”

“Let me see if Admiral Forest will approve my leave first,” Jon warned. “Then we can make plans.”

Turning serious, Trip put down his utensils, very carefully which meant Jon wasn’t going to like what came next. “You know, once we get back to the Complex, life’s going to get real busy. That new engine will go into the construction phase.”

“I got that Lt. Commander,” Archer attempted levity. “Any idea what they’ll have you doing?”

“Either upgrading the entire fleet,” Trip shook his head mournfully, turning his clouded blue eyes towards his husband. Both understood the ramification for their marriage. “Which means I’ll be based at Orbital at least half the time, or space doc. There will be enough trained engineers to do the actual instillation. Or, working on plans to take the current engine to warp 5, which, theoretically, is possible with some upgrades. I’ll be liaising with the science types in that case, not something I’m looking forward too. Worst case scenario, I’ll be tasked with both. I’m not sure they’re going to need test pilots for another few years, Jon,” Tucker finished, his tone indication troubled waters ahead.

“That’s why it’s even more important we spend this time together,” he responded. “I want to take you to Ithaca, see where I grew up.”

“I always wanted to clime Mount Placid,” Trip’s gaze became crystal clear, “but never got around to it when I was studying. I guess I was waiting for someone to go with me.”

“You’re on,” Jon grinned. “Now, all we have to do is get approval.”

The approval came within twenty minutes of Commander Archer and Lt. Tucker summiting the correct forms. By the end of June 2144, they were back in their San Francisco apartment, wedding reception for friends and colleagues behind them. Pieter let it slip that they’d been trying for a brother for Mireya. However, another girl was on the way. She would arrive before the end of the year. Lee was beside himself, declaring nothing would make him return to work until the children were enrolled in university. The pair planed for a third and final addition to their family in the coming year as Fayton had finally met someone and the relationship was turning serious.

Getting dressed in their uniforms for the first time in months, Jon spied the new half bar on his husbands’ breast and patch on his shoulder. “Lt. Commander,” Archer stated, shaking his head, “I’d better get that promotion to Captain soon, or you’ll out rank me.”

“Never,” Trip stated with a finality that had Jon watching him carefully. “Commander’s my limit, Jonny. Engineers don’t command ships, and they rarely reach Captain unless it’s driving research and development. If there’s any R and D in my future, it’s with Tucker Technical as I look after the kids.”

Swallowing, hard, Jon knew they’d talked about this, but it was still so far in the future. Their last dinner with Pieter and Lee while they were planet side on shore leave had Trip a little disappointed. He’d wanted to hold and coddle his goddaughter. They’d left her with a babysitter so the couple could enjoy a rare adult night out.

“Well,” Archer straightened to his full height and used his commanders’ tone, “you’d better get that warp 5 engine off the drawing board and onto a ship soon, Commander Tucker. That way I can get my promotion and you can be in charge of the engine room.”

“The sooner the better, Old Man,” Trip’s despondent mood disappeared instantly. “Come on, if we don’t shake a tail feather, we’ll be late for the transport.”

Rolling his eyes, Jon followed Trip out of their bedroom. On the white board he noticed a new event. Trying not to repeat the action, Archer groaned instead. Unfortunately, Trip heard him.

“We been together almost four years and married nine months,” Tucker’s tone sounded more amused than angry as he put his wedding ring on its chain and slipped the jewellery under his Henley, “I though you would have remembered **_our_** family’s birthdays by now.”

Pushing his husband out the door, Commander Jonathan Archer wisely chose to say nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: the next chapter is almost complete but I find myself in a little bit of a quandary. I believe we have established Trip and Jon's relationship, the vibe between them. Apart from some information on where and what they will be doing until Enterprise is on the drawing board/launched, I'm not sure I can aid anymore to the story with "filler chapters". So, time for you to give me some advice. Skip ahead to Enterprise, or is there something you really want to see. I will do Titan and an overview as a look back if you choose the former.


	29. Moonlight: February 2145

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one’s short (and my last pre-written chapter) while I try and work out how to get from 2145 to the first episode of Enterprise. I will, of course, be covering as much cannon as possible, so you can expect the Titan mission and the appearance of Porthos at some time. Updates might be a little sporadic from now on.

Trip entered their apartment, tired, exhausted and filthy. “I’m going for a shower and then bed,” he announced, noticing Jon standing in the living room as he passed. He didn’t want to hear his husband’s complaints about how much time he’d been spending at work, or not joining him for dinner, again. Lt. Commander Tucker just needed a few hours of shut eye, so he could do it all over again tomorrow.

“Have you eaten at all today?” demanded Archer in a worried tone.

“Nope,” came a shout above the sound of the water pouring from the shower rose. Jon imagined the items of dirty clothing strewn across the floor where they dropped. He’d have to clean the bathroom up later, even if Trip knew better because it was one of Archer’s pet hates. “Before you start, I don’t intend to either. I need sleep more than food. I got be up in four hours and back at the complex in six for a departmental meeting and I got several briefs to read before then. I promise I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me, if you’re awake at 0400.”

Shaking his head, Jonathan Archer glared at Admiral Forest seated on the couch. “It’s like this every night,” he complained in a tight tone. “Six weeks ago, after we cut short out annual Christmas and New Year’s celebrations with the Tuckers, Trip started getting home later and later. It’s been after to midnight this week. I don’t know the last time he consumed more than coffee. I’ve had Ensign Hess and Commander Wu keeping an eye on him at the complex as their divisions in the same building. Christina’s been making him eat lunch. I swear he’s lost five kilos.”

“Jon, I know your worried,” Max tried to sooth. “We’re at a critical stage with the warp two engine. Construction plans have been finalised, the tenders engaged and the first vessel blueprints approved. By the end of the year, the engine will be installed and the ship operational. Then Lt. Commander Tucker’s role will be over and the pilots’ part will start with the in-system trails.”

“I’m not sure Trip will last another month under this pressure, let alone a year,” Jon stated, his eyes narrowing to his mentors. “He gets less than four hours sleep a night, including weekends. When my husband’s not at the complex, he’s in the study working from home, or on the com giving orders. This has to stop, before the fatigue lands him at Starfleet medical. I’m telling you, Max, I know Trip better than you. He did the same on the lecture tour. When he’s in, he’s all in. He can be one single minded bastard at times, and this is one of them.”

“What is it you want me to do?” Max asked in a carefully modulated tone.

“Relieve the pressure at work,” Jon exploded, hands on hips and command glare aimed at his mentor. Sighing, he added quietly and carefully, “I can relieve the pressure at home.”

“I heard that,” Trip’s voice echoed from the bathroom as the water shut off. Still dripping wet with a towel tucked around his waist, Tucker marched into the living room and faced his husband with a thunderous expression. “You just leave my work out of his Jonathan Archer. Admiral, go home. This is something we have to work out.”

“Actually, Commander,” now that Forest got a good look at an almost naked Charles Tucker, he could see the ravage this project caused. Yet, it wasn’t the obvious fatigue or weight loss that shamed Max into capitulation. The gold band, level with Trip’s heart did the job. In all the months they’d been married, Jon joked about his husband’s ability to forget almost everything, but taking the symbol of their devotion off its chain the moment he walked in the door and slipping it on his finger. The fact it remained around Lt. Commander Tucker’s neck told its own story. “I’m inclined to agree with Jon.”

“Well ain’t that dandy,” Trip blew up, threw his hands in the air and almost lost his towel. Grabbing the ends, he firmly tucked it back in. “What happened to you and Admiral Yamamoto pulling me into your office the other day and telling me this project had to be delivered on time and to exacting specifications able to pass the Vulcan’s excessive constraints? How do you expect me to deliver without working my team to the bone when you won’t give me anymore staff? Not that they’d be trained anyway. Well, maybe Captain Jeffery’s engineers could pick up some of the slack as they’re not doing anything at the moment. My point is, I managed to get those warp two calculations complete, allowing you to have the engine ready for large scale production within the timeframe Admiral Yamamoto set.”

“Actually, it was two months late,” Forest interrupted, “but we will still have the entire fleet upgraded by the end of next year in line with the Fleet Admiral’s expectations.”

Jon, listening to the conversation, realised his husband kept that piece of information confidential, probably because he’d been ordered to. The time constraints explained a lot and made Archer angry on Tucker’s behalf. Trip’s prediction that they’d be busy after returning from Boston proved correct. Last year Commander Archer, long with Robinson, Duval and Gardiner spent most of their time either in the NX simulator or flying the NX Delta and Gamma, improving helm design for the Warp two ship, which would soon be under construction. Their part in this project had come to a screaming halt just before Christmas.

“Half the vessels in the current fleet,” Trip’s tone turned deadly, recapturing Jon’s attention, “aren’t capable of housing the new engine, let alone integrating into their system or using it. It’ll shake the hull apart if they go beyond warp two because they’re just too damn old and constructed of outdated materials. Besides, it should be called the warp three engine. You know its theoretical top speed is 3.1. Hell, Gardiner pushed the NX delta just under the limit and Duval had the NX gamma cruising at 2.7 for over three hours on his first attempt. I haven’t had time to look at the recent data.”

“Last time Gardiner and I were at the controls,” Jon chimed in, “we managed to cruise at 2.9 with a sling shot around Neptune.”

“I’ll add that to the report I’m working on,” Trip glared at Jon, as if he’d deliberately kept that piece of information a secret. “To get to warp five, we need a new alloy, amongst other factors that need to be incorporated into the ship surrounding the engine. That’s without inventing the materials that will be able to confine the antimatter beam to control the matter/antimatter intermix entering the reaction chamber. On top of all that, has the mining team come up with a purer deposit of diluitum crystals, cause my team’s just about out of the last batch, which, I might add, had impurities above my specification and caused delays in my tests.”

Opened mouthed, Max Forest looked at Archer. Hands on his hips and doleful expression on his face as if to say, _I told you so_ , the Admiral made a snap decision. “Lt. Commander Tucker, you are relieved of duty for the next two days. Before you say anything, I’ll take that meeting at 0600 tomorrow and speak with Jeffery’s crew. Let’s see if we can get you some help. But, if I see you at the complex over the weekend or between now and then, well, I’m not sure what punishment I’ll hand out but it will be severe. Jon, book something now. I want to see you gone before I go home. Somewhere with sunshine and warm weather to improve Trip’s disposition and make him forget about work for four days. I trust you can do that.”

Nodding with a barked, “yes, Sir”, Jon stalked to the com and called his mother-in-law. Ten minutes later a private transport landed on the roof top pad with one of Tucker Technical subsidiaries logos on the side. An hour and a half later they were on Moonlight, sailing into the night. Charles Tucker the Third’s body language spoke louder than his words, which were few and far between. Jon bore the brunt of his husband’s ire happily. Trip had been further enraged when Jon flatly refused to take any form of electronic device from their San Francisco apartment and had Uncle Bob remove all but the emergency beacon from his yacht’s communication system. It seemed Lt. Commander Tucker had little to do but catch on sleep and spend time with his significant other on his enforced break.

“I should be mad as hell at you,” Trip offered after sleeping fourteen hours straight. Wandering into the combined galley/living area, he rubbed his eyes on the way to the head. Only his full bladder woke him from the best sleep in weeks. “I’m…is that bacon?”

“I’m glad to see you’ve got your appetite back,” Jon teased cheerfully. He was wearing his ring, and an apron, but nothing else. “I just hope it’s for things other than food. We haven’t had sex in weeks. Mrs. Palmer and her five daughters could do with some help.”

“You better believe it,” Trip responded with a wicked grin, slapping his husband’s backside playfully. “I aim to prove it after you’ve feed me. I need energy for what I have in mind.”

“I know it’s closer to dinner time than breakfast,” Jon mocked, shaking his head. He could hear Tucker finishing up in the tiny bathroom, “but come and get it.”

“Eggs, fried,” Trip’s mouth watered at the sight of all the food set out on the table. Scooping up a cup, he took a mouthful of coffee and snagged a slice of meat for the other hand before diving for a seat and plate. “French toast. After the way I’ve been treating you, Jon, I’m surprised you bothered!”

“Married, remember,” Archer ensured he’s expression was neutral as he tapped his ring. “For better or worse.”

“Have I really been that bad?” Tucker demanded around a mouthful of food and another on his fork.

“We’re supposed to make this work for us, Trip,” Archer sighed, plating up his own food and settling into the seat beside his partner. Turing the conversation serious, Jon exhaled. “You’re giving your all to this project. No, Trip, listen to me.” Jon held out his hand to stop the protest he knew formed on his lover’s lips. “I know, it’s a job you love, but **_you_** have limits and **_you_** need to learn what they are. If you needed more staff, there are ways to acquire them.”

“Hess kept telling me,” Trip sighed with an exasperated eye roll, “that I didn’t need to do everything myself. I swear, Jonny, when I’m Chief Engineer of the warp 5 starship, I’m going to have Hess as my second. Wu won’t leave his family and Jeffery’s isn’t even an engineer.”

“What happened to Wang?” Jon asked, not buying the distraction in the least, even if he let Tucker think he’d won this round. “I don’t remember seeing him around the last few months.”

“Hess broke up with him,” Trip shook his head sadly. “He was offered a great position on Mars by a start-up. Took him weeks to make the decision and tender his resignation. I think, remaining an Ensign for another year or more tipped the scales. Hess didn’t want to do the long-distance thing and she sure doesn’t want to leave Starfleet.”

“That could be us soon, Trip,” Jon looked into his coffee cup mournfully, “if I’m taking the hints Max gave out last night.”

“I agree,” Trip placed an arm around his husband’s shoulders in a conciliatory gesture. “I get the feeling you’re going to be in charge of the trials.”

“I would have thought that job went to the Captain,” Jon sighed.

“Starfleet hasn’t appointed a permeant Captain to the new ship, but that’s not what I was talking about,” Trip responded. When Jon have him a questioning look, Tucker explained, “the refits will come first. Starfleet’s going to want a pilot on board that knows the new engine. Besides, I thought Gardiner would get the _Sputnik_ , named after the first craft lunched into space.”

“He was offered the post and refused,” informed the pilot. It gave Jon the opening to return to his earlier conversation. “His wife’s not happy with a continuous off world assignment. I’ve been thinking, if this warp 5 engine gets off the ground, humanity’s going to exploring a lot further than our own solar system. We’ll be out in the galaxy for longer periods of time, just like the Boomers.”

“Meaning they take their families and homes with them?” Trip wondered where Jon’s mind wandered.

“I’ve been reading about the Navy,” Jon explained carefully, “not the modern UE ships, but in the sixteenth to nineteenth century, before WWI. Those captains set out with their cargo holds full and sailed into the great beyond just because they could. They were looking for adventure with limited supplies in uncharted territory. Many were shipwrecked, others found new and exciting lands, but they were away from their friends and family for years. Getting out of Earth’s solar system is going to be just like that, Trip. We’re going to have to leave everything behind, even our way of thinking as we explore new worlds, cultures, and discover species totally different to us.”

“You sure it wasn’t philosophy you studied in Boston,” Trip teased, attempting to get the conversation back onto lighter subjects. He got the ‘stare’ that said Jon had to get this off his chest. Shoulders straightening, he asked, “what’s your point.”

“I think that’s why Yamamoto and Forest have selected us,” Archer explained. “We’ve proved we can work in a tight space, our relationships enduring, we can’t throw the proverbial spanner in the works by getting pregnant and we have the skill set required to be in key positions.”

“We,” Trip emphasised, “already knew this. I ask again, what’s your point.”

“I knew it, Babe,” Jon sounded rather astounded, “I just didn’t **_know_** it, here,” placing a hand over his heart, Tucker finally began to understand. “We talked about the future, but it wasn’t real. We’ve been working towards it, some of us harder than other. It wasn’t until last night, when I saw Max looking at the wedding ring around your neck that it finally made sense, that this wasn’t just words. This is going to happen.”

“At the rate my teams going, we have about seven years,” Trip agreed with a happy grin. The more he thought about Jon’s words, the funnier they seemed. Finally, a chuckle caught. Archer watched on, somewhat astonished as Tucker dissolved into a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” He demanded.

“It’s your daddy’s engine,” Trip attempted to stop, only to find the sentiment hilarious.

“Still not getting it,” Jon started to sound frustrated.

Tears running down his face, Tucker wiped them away. He couldn’t look at his husband, or the giggles would start again. “All this time, the engines’ been a theoretical concept, a hope for the future. It’s the thought that’s kept you going. Now it’s turning into a reality, you’re having doubts and seeing the bigger picture. You’re afraid of the future.”

“Not afraid,” Jon frowned.

“Hell, you think I wasn’t terrified and excited at the same time, leaving home at sixteen,” Trip tightened his arm around Archer’s shoulders. “My whole world was changing. Then again when we moved in together. I’m sure you recall the conversation we had on the beach the day you met my parents. **_My_** point is, I’m not afraid at all, Jonny. I have enough faith for the both of us. Now,” Tucker looked down at his empty plate, “if you’re done eating, I’m sure there’s something better we could be doing. I wonder if there’s any of that Rocky Road body paint around. I could sure do desert about now.”

Levering himself up from the table, Jon scrounged in a cupboard, hiding his hands behind his back. When Trip just stared, Archer finally said, “we never did get a chance to use these.”

Producing the silk scarves Vicky had included in their basket of honeymoon goodies, Tucker’s eyes turned into saucers. “We never did talk about going down that path. I’m not sure….”

“Me either,” Jon looked relieved. “You can get your naked butt on that bed after making me spend fourteen hours of my off-duty time alone.”

“You’re telling me, you had Uncle Bob stock Moonlight with choc mint?” Trip sounded very put out when he spied the tub of chocolate goo in his husband’s other hand. There wasn’t any white and pink on the lid which indicated Rocky Road flavour. The green was more indicative of Jon’s favourite.

“I asked very nicely,” Jon beamed, pulling Trip out of from the bench seat, “besides, you’re supposed to be relaxing. Just lay back and I’ll make sure you chill out.”

“Promises, Old Man,” Trip teased.

“That a challenge,” Jon returned.

“Do I have to make it a challenge?” Trip responded.

“How about I challenge you?” Jon became deadly serious. “Next time you try to work yourself onto a biobed at Starfleet medical, I just threaten you with this?”

Holding up the tub, Trip raced to the nearest port hole. Noticing the ocean surrounding them, he dared, “you’re on, if you can catch me, Old Man,” before vaulting up the ladder to the deck. Jon followed slowly, knowing where he would find his husband. Sprawled on the bow, Tucker was waiting, hand cradling his head and legs arranged for best access.

“Well,” Trip teased, “now you found me, what you going to do.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Jon teased. “Just lay back, Babe, and enjoy.”


	30. Manipulation: February 2145

“I can’t believe we’ve been on Moonlight four days,” Trip moaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes once again. He’d woken several hours ago, only to look out the porthole and see the sun breaking in a new day. Jon snored beside him, making the blanket seemed particularly inviting and the allure of more sleep enticing.

“That’s because **we** haven’t,” Archer called from the galley, standing before the small cooking station, this time preparing their morning coffee. “You seem to be in the land of nod more than on this vessel. You slept most of Thursday…”

“While you kept me up all Thursday night,” Trip recalled, reluctantly removing himself from the bed. Stripping the sheets, he put them into the laundry duffle for one of Uncle Bob’s employees to refresh. Like it or not, it was time to close down Moonlight, get dressed and return to their real lives.

“You returned the favour,” Jon lent against the door frame, two cups in hand, watching his husband’s easy movements, “when you finally found the rocky road flavoured body paint your relation stashed in the stasis unit.”

“I’ll have to thank Uncle Bob for that,” Trip smirked, recalling what they’d done with the sticky treat most of Friday night. It had been like their honeymoon all over again. Shaking his head, Tucker reached for his clothing. Neither of them wore anything while on Moonlight, beside their wedding rings, unless absolutely necessary.

“Only to finish catching up on more much needed sleep most of Friday. When you finally managed to keep awake yesterday, we finally got to do some diving,” Jon sounded terse. In truth, he was happy to see Trip so relaxed.

“If you knew I was going to sleep, why’d you agree to meet Uncle Bob for brunch?” face displaying his displeasure, Tucker threw their packed duffle at his husband and placed his hands on his hips. Jon side stepped the flying projectile effortlessly, allowing it to fall at his feet. Shaking his head, he offered the cup to Trip. When he woke up in one of these moods, the stimulant usually improved his attitude. Although he liked the older relative, Trip would rather spend quality time with his partner. Both knew how busy he’d be, once they returned to San Francisco.

“I like Uncle Bob,” Jon stated with a shrug, “and especially his stories. There are times I have to wonder if he and Chuck come from the same parents. Come on, Trip, the Mariana’s on the horizon and we have a boat to tie up when we get there. I’ll take you out for a nice quiet dinner tonight and we can talk about the new rules for working sensible hours. I don’t want to see you in this state again.”

“I just don’t want it to end,” Tucker whined, looking into his mug as if it held the answers to all the problems in the world. “We were supposed to come back once a year.”

“I’m not letting us forget again,” Jon sounded determined as he took his spouse into his arms for a much-needed hug, “once a year while we’re still on Earth. That’s a promise. Now, get that coffee into you, while I check the boat over.”

Jon sighed as Moonlight pulled alongside the dock. Trip finished cleaning up below deck and joined Archer as they moved toward the marina. Pointing out Uncle Bob waiting for them, a bad feeling descended into Archer’s gut. One look into clear blue eyes and he knew Tucker felt the same. Both wondered if this might be the ramifications from Wednesday night.

“Trip, Jonny,” Bob greeted with a sour note in his voice. Glancing toward the restaurant gave the couple their first warning that all was not right. “You got visitors awaiting on you. I tried to tell ‘m to get lost, but they wouldn’t listen. Then again, family’s like that. Won’t take no for an answer.”

The intense southern twang openly displayed the older man’s displeasure. Placing a hand over his forehead, Archer attempted to located and identify the interlopers through the midmorning glare. All he could see were three men standing by the entrance to the restaurant. He could guess who they were.

“Grandpa, Dad and Jamie,” Trip recognised the individuals easily. “Can’t be worried about me from your call or Mama would have come alone. This looks like a meeting of the board of Tucker Technical. I wonder what they want?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Jon’s command tone made an appearance. After securing the yacht, the three men marched towards the main building without a word between them. Grim faced, Archer greeted his in-laws while his gut became more disgruntled with each step. Over the last four years, he’d had enough time to become acquainted with the youngest Tucker sibling. James would turn twenty-two next month but had the presence and manner of someone a decade older. Standing beside his father, the two could be mistaken for brothers, especially as Charles Tucker II often deferred to his son in matters of business.

“What’s the reason for your long faces?” Trip asked, his glare narrowing to his brother, while picking up the subtle posture from Jon, which screamed protection and proprietorship. The two had never really gotten on. Archer could step back, watch and assess, just like Jamie, but the intent seemed different.

James Tucker had been married almost a year. He’d announced the arrival of his first child in June, in keeping with the family tradition. As far as Charles Tucker III knew, there were no issues on that front. The fact Grandpa Chuck accompanied his son and grandson meant this was a private issue, most probably arising from Tucker Technical. The bad feeling turned visceral as blue eyes met hazel. They wanted something, something only Trip or Jon could supply. With the recent discussions between Jamie and his older brother, it had to do with his work on the new warp engine, because Lt. Commander Tucker didn’t know the first thing about mining Rhenium.

“Starfleet,” Jamie announced, allowing the pair their moment. He knew they wouldn’t like the discussion he planned. “I’ve had Manny reserve us a private room and Chef prepare all your favourites.”

“Either you’re trying to bribe my husband,” Jon’s stance and tone became all commander, “or what you have to tell us is…significant.”

“A little of both,” James smiled oddly, looking at his father and grandfather for conformation. The pair nodded, as if to say, this is all your show but we’ll back you up. “You’re not going to find out, standing on the porch. Shall we go in?”

Leading the men inside, they settled into their chairs. An expectant atmosphere choked the air, filled with irrelevant small talk while they eat. Once the dishes had been removed, James Tucker signal the staff to leave. Obviously, they were not to be disturbed, or the conversation broadcast. The youngest Tucker pulled a small device from his bag, setting it in the middle of the table and switching it on.

“Audio-acoustic dampening field,” he explained. “Something we’ve been working on for a year now.”

“What’s this all about, Jamie?” Trip demanded. His curiosity increased as the meal continued, especially when it became obvious his family didn’t want this conversation over heard. Beneath the table, Jon’s hand stole into his, his thumb tracing circles on Tucker’s wrist. It was the only outward sign of his husband’s skyrocketing disquiet. “And why the secrecy?”

“We’ve recently started a new division,” Chuck announced. “Something I wanted to do years ago, but Betty, well, it wasn’t the time. Trans-sol purchased a cargo company that runs out of Mars.”

“The start up on Mars,” Trip rolled his eyes as the familiar name indicated where this discussion was going. “You head hunted from Captain Jeffery’s team. Why?”

James announced his plans easily. “I need cargo ships to make the run between Pluto and Earth in the shortest possible time. Former Ensign Wang is heading up the refitting process on our current fleet. They are mostly old Y and J class freighters able to make a steady warp 1.5. I need at least warp 1.95, but the higher the speed the better. I must say, Trip, that new plasma injector and manifold assembly is ingenious. Then again, you are a Tucker!”

“The mining on Pluto,” Trip saw the links and looked at Jon. A nod of Archer’s head, meant he also understood.

“It took a year of research to find a way to extract the Rhenium from the inner mantle profitably,” James explained. “Initially we ran with the idea from the mining consortiums in the asteroid belt and made the habitat/processing module a self-sustaining unit that could move when necessary. It’s powered by modified warp engine. That’s the easy part in this project.”

“The hard part?” Jon asked, feeling the pregnant pause.

“We partnered with Starfleet, to research and set up the experimental mining venture,” James continued his explanation.

“But,” Chuck took over, “but Starfleet’s no longer interested in purchasing a working concept, even one they know will fulfil their needs for the next century. They want to continue their current mining operations.”

“Which,” James sighed, “will allow Starfleet to continue their obligations of supplying Rhenium to the Vulcan’s.”

“They’re about to down size?” Jon questioned.

“Yes and no,” James responded. “As far as our allies are concerned, nothing will appear to have changed. Tucker Technical will take over the responsibility for the domestic market, and others, as they come on line in the future.”

“Without the in-system resource runs,” Trip calculated, “half the current ships won’t be needed.”

“Remember what you told Admiral Forest Wednesday night,” Jon almost whispered into his husband’s ear. When Trip nodded, both understood why the rant hadn’t caused the issued it should have. Those ships Lt. Commander Tucker worried wouldn’t be able to house the warp 2 engine, wouldn’t be part of Starfleet much longer. “What about the crew’s?” Jon exhaled, understanding many would be out of jobs in the near future. Still, with the new warp 2 ship being constructed, and it was rumoured, crewed by almost one hundred, it might be a case of reorganising personnel.

“You mean to tell me, you haven’t noticed the change in policy since Admiral Black became the attaché to Vulcan,” Chuck’s tone soured. “The increased surveillance at the complex? The movement of departments heads, duties, equipment?”

“Now, just wait a minute,” Trip demanded, his mind finally making the links he should have seen, especially with Jamie’s coaching. “You’re telling me, Starfleet’s happy to just let Tucker Technical walk in and take over this business? How many others Jamie? What’s you end game here? Don’t tell me this isn’t just the tip of the iceberg. Remember, I grew up with you.”

“Shall we take this one question at a time,” finally Charlie stood and took the floor. “Yes, Trip, this is just the tip of the iceberg, as you put it, and not just for our company. However, that was Starfleet’s decision, not ours. They have decided not to be involved at a direct level, but tender out most of their manufacturing and construction work.”

“Are you aware of the manipulation of your careers?” James asked the question quietly, his green eyes narrowing on his brother and brother-in-law. “Have you ever wondered why?”

“Hell, yes,” Jon couldn’t sit by silently any longer. “Admiral Forest has been mentoring me since I was twelve years old and my father died. As far as Max is concerned, I’m the son he never had. The man’s supported my career as long as I’ve been in Starfleet. As to Trip, we suspected as far back as _Al Biruni_.”

“Good,” James indicated they each take one of the PADD’s he produced from his satchel. “That will make the rest of what I have to say much easier. We didn’t just walk in and take over. Various subsidiaries of Tucker Technical won the tenders for most of the components for the latest warp engine because we are the best at what we do and Admiral Yamamoto is well aware how they are related to the parent company. We have all the components, we just needed the engineering team to put it together. Hiring several disgruntled Starfleet Officer’s was easy, and without insider trading, Trip. I did not use any of the information you let slip to influence my decisions. I just put the word out that we were hiring engineers with certain qualification. When the mothballed Starfleet ships come up for sale…”

“You won’t touch them,” Trip stated vehemently. “Those ships weren’t designed to go that fast. If I’ve taught Wang anything, it’s to think before installing new equipment in useless hulls. There’s a reason Starfleet’s decided to go this way, Jamie. Their as forward thinking as you are.”

“Thank you,” James nodded, making a note on his PADD. “So, I have to order the construction of a new fleet of cargo carriers to meet my specific requirements. Time consuming but not completely unexpected.”

“Don’t tell me,” Jon’s expression gave away his thoughts, “you have the contracts for supplying the material to the Utopia Planetia ship yards?”

“We’ve held those contracts for over twenty years,” Charlie stated. “In fact, since the construction yards were inaugurated. Dad helped with terraforming Mars for habitation. It was our first UESPA agreement. I’ve designed the hydro systems once liquid water was available. With the height of the surrounding hills and increased gravity, Mars is capable of generating enough energy for the entire population of the Solar System. We’re working on being able to harness and store it.”

“Just how much of Starfleet do you ‘own’,” Jon demanded, seeing the implications immediately. He’d just read about a transporter and protein re-sequencer that would innovate space travel, if incorporated into starships travelling light years from Earth.

“At last count, we supply eighty percent of the current engineering needs,” James answered, sitting back in his chair casually, “and with all the new outsourcing, it’s made Starfleet very vulnerable. If it weren’t for the fact that Tucker Technical has a vested interest, and want to see humanity expand beyond our current sphere of influence, a company such as ours could hold them to ransom.”

“What’s you price, Jamie,” Jon’s ire was increasing by the minute. “What is it you want from Trip and I?”

“My brother was head hunted before he even finished high school, for one reason and one reason only, Jonathan,” James indicated Commander Archer should look at the report on his PADD. “The moment Trip made his application for MIT, it sent up flags. Starfleet was just waiting for a Tucker to be interested in Warp mechanics. Your husband’s affiliation with this company and his extraordinary ability with, what Starfleet is now calling Orbital Engineering, were a dream come true for Fleet Admiral Yamamoto. Not only did he think he could control Trip, and through him, the rest of us, he had every intention of making Tucker Technical fall into line as a subsidiary of Starfleet, the manufacturing arm if you will. While I agree with Neoga’s ideology and the fact you two should be on that first starship, his manipulation cannot continue unabated. Tucker Technical belongs to Tucker’s. It always has and always will.”

“I ask again,” Jon’s tone rivalled that of the CEO he was facing off against, “what’s your price?”

“You want us to go to Utopia Planetia,” the connections coalesced in Trip’s mind. All those games of chess with his brother, the political coaching had him seeing the links. “Jon overseeing of building the new ship and the in-system trials, while I work on the new engine components. All this is just a rehearsal for the warp 5 ship.”

“She’ll be called _Enterprise_ ,” James agreed, “according the Neoga. I met with him Thursday, after Mama called me. She’s really worried about you, Trip. She knows Jon must have felt the same way, to call her and ask for help.”

“That’s why,” Charlie stated, his green eyes narrowing on his eldest son, “we put this together. On Mars, you’ll be as far removed from the Vulcan influence as we can get but still working on your engine.”

“So,” Jon asked in a deadly quiet tone, “you twisted the Fleet Admiral’s arm?”

“I didn’t have to,” James smiled, as if he knew the punchline to a joke, “you did that.”

“Me?” Jon queried. Still standing, Archer placed his hands on the back of his husband’s chair. His expression thunderous, Trip tipped his head to catch Archer’s glance. It told him to keep calm.

“You didn’t think going to your surrogate father, who has a direct line to Yamamoto wouldn’t have far reaching consequences?” James asked carefully. “I don’t know what you told Admiral Forest, but it’s had major repercussions.”

“Jon,” Trip’s tone pleaded. He knew Archer better than anyone in the room. The man’s temper was hanging on by a thread.

“No, Trip, they can all go to hell,” he raged, pacing the small room to work off his anger. “We decided were only on this path, so long as it followed our direction, the way we wanted to go. This manipulation has got to stop. I didn’t grow up like you, Babe, surrounded by close and sometimes coying family. My parents were both academics, at the pinnacle of their careers when I was born. I can’t even recall a cousin coming to visit. It made me strong willed, independent, able to handle situations on my own. By the time I was Jamie’s age, I had no one, no family left. I’ve had to fight for everything I have and I’m not about to stop now.”

“But,” Trip stood with a sigh, turning to his family and imploring them not to interfere, “you don’t have to fight my battles or do it alone any more, Jonny. You have me, and with me comes a thousand or so relatives, whether or not you like the idea. You have Maxwell Forest and his crazy wife. There are a lot of people supporting you, Jon, even if you choose not to acknowledge them. Yes, your experiences make you who you are, the man I love and have tied my life and happiness too.” Placing his hands upon Archer’s shoulders and ensuring he had complete eye contact, Trip stated, “but this isn’t just about us. It’s about humanity getting out into the stars, a dream we’ve both held for years. I don’t like my family or Starfleet ordering us around anymore than you. Even in the Tucker family, I’ve never been known for following the rules. That just makes it more important that we make our wishes clear and stick to them, no matter who’s trying to manipulate us.”

“You want to do this?” Jon asked, a little astonished. “Live on Mars?”

“Hell, yes,” Trip got that look in his eye, the one Archer knew meant trouble. “It’s the pinnacle of anyone’s engineering career. It’s the next step on my way to Chief. Just as those in-system trial is your stepping stone to Captain. Let’s face it, Jon, we knew this would happen eventually.”

Shaking his head, as if to get rid of the horrible thought, Archer had to acknowledge the truth. Although they’d never spoken about it, separation was in their future. “I didn’t get married to live apart.”

“We’re not going to live apart,” Trip answered seriously. “While the new Intrepid class is being build, you’ll be based at Utopia Planetia with me. Each test will be, what, five to eight days. The post-trial reviews at least twice that long with the Vulcan’s sticking their pointy ears in. Hell, Jon, I was on assignment for a lot more days just after we started living together and we survived that.”

“Maybe,” Bob watched on, a tear in his eye, “we should give them some privacy.”

“Hell, no,” Trip turned and faced his family. “I’m glad you’ve witnessed this. I want to make something real plain, you are not to go behind Jon and my back’s again. Jamie?” The younger man nodded, a contemplative expression on his face. “Dad, Grandpa, Jonathan Archer **_is_** my family. Like you, I took an oath to his man and he comes first. You always told me, Tucker’s choose wisely and only marry once.”

“Trip,” Charlie started.

“No, Dad,” he rounded on his father for the first time, “this is my life, my love, my dream and my choice. I choose to be an explore, with my husband by my side, out there. If Starfleet offer’s us new posting’s, we’ll decide if it’s right for us. Not Tucker Technical and not Starfleet. Now, Jon and I are going to visit with Bubble But and talk about this.”

Holding out his hand, Trip watched as Jon locked gazes and slowly reached out to take the offered limb. Without another word, they exited the room. Heading for the nature reserve, Tucker could feel his husband’s glare the entire way.

“Can I speak now?” Jon asked sarcastically.

“NO,” Trip decided, a wicked grin followed through to his eyes. Hauling the haplessly surprised man into his arms, Tucker kissed Archer with all he was worth. “I love you. I don’t say it enough but I do.”

“I think you just proved that,” Jon responded. “What the hell’s gotten into you, Trip?”

“Besides enough sleep and food,” once again that wicked smile, accompanied, this time, by a hand down Archer’s pants, “I’m hoping you. Ever done it against a tree. There’s this real quiet spot I use to take….well, you don’t need to know about that.”

“Ever don’t it with a man against a tree,” Jon teased.

  
“Nope,” Trip pulled Archer after him, “but I’m hoping to get lucky.”


	31. New Orders: February to June 2145

“Hell,” Trip muttered, before he could drag his husband off to a secluded spot on the preserve. Pointing towards the landing pad, Tucker explained, “I never heard the transport land. We gotta go, Jon. That’s Rear Admiral Leonard from the look of the flags on the shuttle pod. I expect he’s here on behalf of Yamamoto. Starfleet sure didn’t waste any time with our new orders after Jamie spoke with his new friend Neoga. If I’m reading this the right, they think neither of us are going to like them.”

“Wait,” Jon pulled Trip into his embrace, refusing to let him go. “Let’s see what happens.”

“Why?” Tucker asked.

“Call it recognisance,” Archer stated with a casual shrug of his shoulders, “or a hunch. I’m not sure anyone’s motives are completely pure in this, or as simple as they’re making out.”

Nodding in agreement, Trip felt like the meat in the sandwich. “I got the feeling Jamie was testing me.”

“More likely our commitment to Starfleet,” Jon corrected. “He’s got a lot riding on this new venture, Trip, and your expertise could make a huge difference. I think we both understand that. This whole situation is a conflict of interest and it has more to do with hiding certain facts from the Vulcans, than you and me or even humanity reaching for the stars.”

“You want to leave Starfleet and join a Boomer vessel,” Trip enquired rhetorically. He felt the need to break the suddenly tense moment. Both knew it would never happen, that they couldn’t be happy with that life. “If you’re done gawking, let’s go and find out what’s happening.”

“Trust me, Babe,” Jon held on tight, leaning in to whisper in Trip’s ear, “let them come to us. We don’t have many trump cards, so we have to play this very carefully to get what we want out of the deal.”

“I never did have the stomach for this sort of crap,” Trip muttered, his head buried in Archer’s shoulder.

“It’s going to come as part of the job,” Jon smirked, “when we’re out there.” He pointed to the sky. “They call it diplomacy and negotiation. It’s keeping a straight face when you know someone’s not being completely truthful or trying to feed you a pile of crap.”

“I think I want a house on Mars,” Trip stated several minutes later, not willing to give up his comfortable position in Jon’s warm and secure embrace. He hated waiting, especially when his mind raced with so many thoughts. Mars was the panicle of any Engineer’s career and Lt. Commander Tucker’s original plans included getting there as fast as possible. Yet, he’d never changed meeting his husband and the life they shared. “With a back yard and a dog. Nowhere near the Starfleet complex.”

“Why?” Jon asked, astonished. They hadn’t received their orders and he could tell it was a done deal in Trip’s mind. “You getting clucky already?”

“First step’s always a dog,” Trip couldn’t keep the grin off his face. “Marty’s puppies were cute.”

“Why did the Sying’s call a female dog, Marty?” Jon asked.

“Martina,” Trip grinned, “after some famous tennis player. Marty had her only ‘accidental’ litter just before I graduated MIT. She’s nearly ten now and showing her age, according to Rimbo. The family decided to keep one of Marty’s pups, called her Billie, after another tennis player. It was Billie that had the litter when we were living in Boston, deliberately this time. Agni begged for a dog of her own, even though all the pups had been promised. Being the youngest of Dr. Sying’s kids, well, you know how spoilt she is, as the only girl. So, last I heard, Billie’s having another litter.”

“Is that a hint for your birthday present?” Jon asked.

Snorting, Trip finally gave up his intimacy. “I’ll tell Dr. Sying to keep a dog for us, but we’ll probably have to wait until the pup they keep has her first litter. Have you ever owned a beagle, Jon?” When the older man shook his head, Tucker chuckled. “I’m just saying, they’re all nose and they howl, especially if they’re left alone. I learnt a lot, living with Marty. Stubborn little beast at times.”

“So, a good character match for our family,” Jon teased.

The jovial atmosphere couldn’t with the two men bearing down on them. Rear Admiral Daniel Leonard nodded at something James Tucker said. _Here we go_ , Archer’s expression informed his spouse as the pair casually sauntered closer. Reality finally intruded into Jon and Trip’s private time.

“We’re not going to like it,” Trip stated in a hard tone, glaring at his superior officer. Posture straightening and putting a little distance between himself and Jon, both Commanders Tucker and Archer became Starfleet officers. The change between loving couple to professional individuals had become an ingrained action over the last five years.

“On the contrary, I think you will,” Leonard couldn’t keep the smirk off his face when he heard the hissed comment. “Captain Archer, first I’d like to congratulate you on your promotion. Admiral Forest believes it’s been a long time coming.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Captain Archer responded with just a note of wonderment. Although they’d talked about increasing his rank, Jon considered it years away, especially after the NX Beta situation.

“You are to report to orbital tomorrow at 0930,” Leonard continued. “The _Excalibur_ will be awaiting you. You’ll be acting as her Captain for the next month, while Joseph Lander’s is on emergency leave. After that, you’ll be stationed at Utopia Planetia, overseeing the construction of _Sputnik_ , the first of the Intrepid type, warp 2 vessels.”

Nodding, Jon accepted his orders without a word.

Leonard then turned to Trip. “Lt. Commander Tucker, your department is moving from the Warp 5 Complex to Mars, where you’ll be our Engineering Attaché to the non-Starfleet personnel associated with supplying the parts for the new engine. We’ve already assigned the Chief Engineer to _Sputnik_ , Commander Steven Guilding. Both Guilding and Archer will be relying on your expertise as we install and then evaluate the new engine’s in-system trials.”

“Australian?” Trip requested with a thoughtful expression covering his face. “Wife called Penny?”

“Yes,” Daniel gave Tucker an enquiring look, wondering how they knew each other. There hadn’t been anything in either engineer’s file hinting at a past association.

“You recall the woman we met after our survival training in Alice Spring,” Trip reminded his husband. Archer nodded. “Is Penny on the crew?”

“Maternity leave, I believe,” the Rear Admiral shook his head.

“So, are the Captain’s quarters big enough to house a spouse?” Jon redirected the conversation. A month in space after Trip just attempted to work himself to the bone hadn’t been in Archer’s plans.

Shaking his head at the unintended rhyme, Leonard looked confused. Like it or not, the pair would be separated for several weeks. “ _Al Biruni_ and _Excalibur’s_ captain’s quarters are about the same size. However, Lt. Commander Tucker will remain on Earth and see to his department’s relocation. Time is of the essence, gentleman. Starfleet wants that engine installed and tested by the end of the year.”

“I suspect I’ll be needing several trips to Mars,” Trip stated, not bothering to hide his intentions, “to get my team situated and all the equipment transferred. I’m sure you can make _Excalibur_ available, Admiral. She might not be a cargo carrier, but she’s got enough room for both my staff and the essentials. In fact, make it part of my acceptance for the position.”

Shaking his head, Jamie watched on with silent amusement. His elder brother’s unique situation gave him leeway and Trip’s personality did the rest. He’d bet his Miami house that Charles Tucker III found a way to spend more time with Jonathan Archer in the next month, than on Earth and Mars combined.

“What about my projects at the Complex?” Trip asked thoughtfully after a moment’s reflextion, his mind already cataloguing what needed to be done. “There are one or two that can’t be relocated.”

“Captain Jeffery’s has been brought up to speed by Admiral Forest. Your departments are to be combined and moved _en mass_ to Mars,” Leonard stated, watching Tucker carefully. He expected fireworks, but got a shrug of his shoulders.

“If Arron can handle the paperwork on Earth with a small admirative team,” Trip appeared pleased, “that’ll free up my time to actually work on the engine once we get settle on Mars. There are some civilian consultants I trust to continue the work that can’t be transferred.” Sighing heavily, Tucker turned to his husband and stated in a tone dripping with sarcasm, “I guess we’ll have to give back the San Francisco apartment.”

“You’re entitle to Captain’s quarters either on Mars or Earth side,” Leonard managed to hide his smirk, watching Archer observed his spouse with amusement. He could see the private message exchanged in the look between them, but had no idea what caused it.

“That’s one battle I wouldn’t start, Admiral,” Jon shook his head before Leonard could get a word in edgeways. “I’ll leave choosing our new accommodations to Trip.”

Trip saw his husband off from the roof top pad early the next morning. Dressed in his new uniform with ships patch and fourth silver bar, Jonathan Archer felt more than a little nervous. As _Excalibur’s_ captain, the responsibility for the entire ship rested with him. _Al Biruni_ would always be his first command, but _Excalibur_ , this was different. They wouldn’t be flying between two points, delivering cargo, unless Lt. Commander Tucker got his way, which seemed more than possible. The obligation felt like a heavy weight, but one he was ready to face. Trip listened to Jon’s fears and expectations as they started packing up their apartment the night before, unable to keep the proud grin off his face.

“Jonny, you’ve made it,” Tucker stated happily when Archer finally ran out of words. “Now, let’s go to bed. We’ve got to be up early in the morning.”

“I’m up now, Trip,” Jon had a devilish glint in his eye, “and won’t be able to sleep, unless you got a remedy for my problem.”

“Well,” the southern drawl, accompanied by Jon’s pants hitting the floor proved erotic. “Let me see what I can do about that!”

* * *

“Captain Archer,” a lieutenant offered as Jon walked through the docking hatch. Looking around, Excalibur’s internal corridors were stock standard for this class of vessel. “Welcome aboard. I’m Lt. Lisa Jones, Communications officer. If you’ll follow me, I’ll give you a tour and introduce you to the department heads before meeting with Captain Lander’s in his private mess. You have a briefing over lunch and we are due to leave Orbital at 1530.”

Nodding, Jon followed the tall woman. It seemed his first day on the job had been planned to make his introduction to the crew and new role easy. “Any chance we can fit in a call to Lt. Commander Tucker’s team at the Complex,” Jon’s tone indicated both his need and first order, “before breaking orbit. I’d like to say goodbye to my spouse.”

“Of course, Sir,” the woman’s demeanour changed ever so slightly as she glanced down at the wedding ring. “When you’re ready, I’ll place the call and have it routed to your ready room.”

Smirking, Jon decided to find out what rumours had already gone around about the new Captain. “So, the crew didn’t know I was married?” he asked simply.

Giving her new commanding officer a wary look, Lisa found his hazel eyes full of mirth. “Didn’t have time to look it up, to be honest,” she answered, her cheeks colouring. “I was sent to find out.”

Letting out a chuckle, Jon responded, “I would have done the same with a new Captain. This decision was made quickly, from what I understand.”

“Yes,” Lisa coloured, this time with sadness. “Captain Lander’s eldest daughter is very ill. He’s been transferred Earth side to be with his family. We’re all hoping she’ll pull through.”

Nodding, Jon realised this assignment hadn’t entirely been a ruse. Starfleet had used the situation to their advantage. “I hope so too.”

“Do you have children, Captain,” Lisa asked.

“Not yet, but we’re planning on it. Trip want’s a dog first,” Archer stated. “What about you, Lieutenant?”

“Turnabout is fair play,” Lisa finally unbent enough to smile, understanding her new Captain was a jovial type. “I haven’t been lucky in love, Sir, or stationed in one place long enough.” Sighing she got back to her duty. “I thought we’d start with the engine room and finish with the bridge.”

Nodding, Captain Archer indicated Lt. Jones lead the way. By the end of the day, Jon met most of the thirty-seven crew and knew something about each of them. Undoubtedly, the rumours of his private life, at least as much as he’d let out, would have done the rounds. He’d kept conversation light, getting to know his officers and allowing them to make their mind up about his relaxed command style. Lunch with Captain Lander’s filled in may blanks, as well as his administrative tasks for this class of vessel.

“Trip?” Jon answered the late-night com directly into his quarters. Although he’d tried to contact his husband earlier in the day, they hadn’t managed to connect. It seemed Trip’s day had been a full as his own.

“Hey, miss you already,” Tucker stated, trying to hide a yawn. “I’m dreading going to bed without you!”

Rolling his eyes, Archer glanced at the bunk and wondered how well he’d sleep without his ‘Trip blanket’. They usually spooned at the start of the night. “I hadn’t really thought about it,” Jon confessed, “until you brought it up. I still have several reports to read. It’s been a busy first day, trying to catch up.”

“I know what you mean. Get into bed,” Trip ordered. “I have to go soon anyway. Yet another departmental meeting at 0700 to decide who gets to stay at the Complex. Hess’s has put her hand up for Mars. Wang’s been on the com asking about the rumours. I think the change will make both of them happy.”

“At least someone will be,” Archer mumbled, folding his uniform over the chair. In his Starfleet issue blues, he climbed under the covers with a PADD in his hand.

“Where are your PJ’s,” Trip demanded, watching the site but feeling put out at Jon’s lack of skin. His husband usually wore loose pants to bed while his chest remained unencumbered. Unless they decided on some nocturnal activity first. Then neither of them bothered with clothing at all.

“Forgot to pack them,” he sighed. “We’ll be back at orbital in four days. Bring them up for me?”

“Forgot my arse,” Trip couldn’t help the smile lightening his face. Jon wasn’t above manipulating a situation to get his own way. “And I’ll bring more than your PJ’s **_up_** for you. I’m going to be needing a transport to Mars. I’ll know more after my meeting tomorrow.”

“Via Pluto no doubt. Babe,” Jon made sure he had eye contact, even if it was through the screen. “I love you. Oh, and I knew you’d find a way to get into my pants. Call me tomorrow night?”

“Count on it. Night, Jonny. Love you too.”

* * *

“Hess,” Trip shouted. The day hadn’t started out well and was deteriorating by the moment.

“Yes,” she returned in the same tone, allowing the words to echo through the hanger. Rolling her eyes, Christina turned them on her companion.

Wu shook his head in sympathy. “At least I still outrank him, technically.”

“I could go to Captain Jeffery’s,” Christina sighed. “Tucker’s become a despot. Anyone would think he’s missing his husband and it’s only been twenty-four hours.”

“Or, something his husband gives him,” Wu responded with a snicker. “You can’t go to Jeffery’s, he’d only agree with the Lt. Commander. They’ve both just come from a meeting with the Admirals.”  
  


Rolling her eyes, again but more expressively, Hess muttered, “I wonder what do they have in stall for us?”

“What are you two grousing about?” Trip demanded, coming up behind them. “We go work to do. _Excalibur_ will be here in three days and I need this equipment ready to ship.”

Handing Hess a PADD, she scrolled down the list. Nodding, she pivoted and began shouting at the other ensigns on the team. Before she got more than two words out, Trip’s shit eating grin appeared. “Now, is that any way to speak to your subordinates, Lt. Hess?”

Turning back to the pair of Commanders, she realised Wu had been in on the joke. “When,” Christina demanded, “did this happen. I’m can’t be promoted until September.”

“You’re going to need some authority,” Trip drawled easily, “if you’re going to be my second on Mars.”

Floored, Hess couldn’t find any words at that moment.

“I need those transport pods loaded, Lieutenant,” Tucker continued to smirk as he gave the woman a push, “by 1800 tomorrow night. Use all the personnel you need, but get it done.”

“Aye, Sir,” Hess finally moved her feet and mouth, yelling orders as she marched away.

“And she thinks I’m a despot,” Trip said good naturedly. “One day she’s going to be Chief Engineer of some starship.”

“And you’ll take all the credit by saying you taught her everything she knows. Anything I should know?” he asked, referring to the meeting.

“You’re staying on Earth,” Trip stated unhappily. “I could use you on Mars, but I understand your reasons for not wanting to relocate. Captain Jeffery’s will be heading up the work at the complex with a team of six. You’ve been transferred to the new academy.”

“Teaching,” Wu sounded astounded.

“Afraid so,” Tucker sighed. “They need good men to pass on their expertise to the cadets. I’m going to need well trained and experienced engineers for the new Intrepid type ships. If _Sputnik_ achieves what I think she’s capable of, Starfleet is going to order at least five more vessels constructed over the next four years.”

“You, my friend,” Commander Wu finally understood, “have your work cut out for you.”

“Sonofa….” Trip stopped the curse as he thought about his last conversation with Cheng See Wu over a month previously. Nothing had worked out quite as he’d hoped after finally setting up his department on Mars. _What else can go wrong?_ Tucker’s mind asked, not happy his husband wouldn’t be sleeping in the same bed anytime soon.

“Sorry, Trip,” Jon’s visage on the com looked as disappointed as Tucker’s. “Captain Lander’s daughter passed away. He’s asked for permanent reassignment Earth side. Starfleet’s scrambling to appoint a permanent Captain.”

“How long?” Tucker sighed unhappily. His expression a mixture of sorrow for the unknown Captain’s family, tinged with sadness for their situation.

“At least another six weeks,” Archer answered.

“I can’t,” Trip sighed, stopping before he made both of them sadder than they already were by finishing with _wait that long to have you sleeping beside me every night_. “The house is a bust, Jonny. There just aren’t enough to go around for the families settling on Mars. I’m still in Starfleet temporary accommodation with the rest of my team. It’s slightly better than the apartment they assigned us in Boston.” At that description, Archer face dropped. Patiently he continued to listen to his husband whine. It seemed Trip had been deliberately down playing the real situation on Mars. Having reached the point of no return, Tucker was finally letting fly with his true emotions. “We’re on the list for a permanent place, but the building’s still under construction. I talked to Jamie to see if Tucker Technical had any subsidiaries that could help. There are two hundred people moving to Mars a month because of this project and nowhere to house them. Some of the civilians are in tents on the playing fields.”

“Trip,” Jon interrupted, “your brother has dangerously over extended the company.”

Letting a delighted grin settle on his face, Tucker agreed. “That’s the one piece of good news, Jonny. I spoke with Jamie last week when I got an idea. There are a lot of Tucker’s that work for the family company without actually being on the board.”

Rolling his eyes, Jon could imagine. “Careful, Babe. You don’t want to strip Jamie of his employees.”

“That’s the beauty of this plan,” Trip responded. “I have two cousins here on Mars. They’re heading up the Trans-Sol company at my brother’s request. Catherine wants to purchase the business from Jamie, with her brother, Samuel. Sort of a franchise, still sheltered by Tucker Technical Name but owned and run by them. Sam’s a pilot and he gets what I’m saying about the old Y and J class freighters, but thinks he can make them work on other projects in near Mars orbit. This colony needs a lot of resources they just don’t have and Jamie’s too far removed to understand or take advantage of the opportunities.”

“What does Jamie think of your idea?” Jon asked.

“I don’t know,” Trip frowned. “I went to Cath’s for dinner last night and we threw around a few ideas. If they can go to Jamie with a good business plan, I’m sure Tucker Technical might be interested. It would take a lot of pressure of my brother.”

“Your family company is big already,” Jon injected. “Taking on the rest of the solar system, it’s a huge step. I’m not sure any company is capable of that sort of control.”

“Mama’s been telling Jamie the same thing,” Trip responded, his expressive face worried about his immediate family. “This way he’d still have his hand in an expanding pie, but could concentrate on Earth. As to the housing situation, there are enough Tucker’s in construction to lure some to Mars. Sam’s going to talk with Ricky and Gabby.” Jon’s frown brought about his husband’s chuckle and the relationship. There were third cousins he’d never met, or at least couldn’t recall them. “They already have a building company in Florida.”

“So long as we’re first on the list for a house,” Jon stated, attempting to keep his facial expression hard and determined.

“I’ll make sure we are,” Trip retorted, “Sir.”

Three months after Captain Jonathan Archer received his unexpected promotion, he finally stepped foot on Mars. Trip ushered him away from the spaceport to the Starfleet Officer’s complex. Their quarters proved to be little more than a room that reminded Captain Archer of his dorm while at Stanford. The mess and communal lounge area served any resident in the building.

“We’re lucky,” Trip stated, “being married. We’re sharing quarters with each other. Hess has move in with Wang. She couldn’t stand her roommate.”

“They expect two people to live in these quarters?” Jon’s astonishment came through is tone.

“I told you room’s tight,” Trip shrugged.

There was more bad news. The Sying’s beagle, Billie, produced only one puppy and the family intended keeping her as Marty’s health finally failed. However, Tanamil promised the couple the first choice from their newest family members babies, when she was old enough to have them.

“Is there any good news?” Jon demanded, looking around the cramped room. “My quarters on _Excalibur_ were bigger than this.”

“Remember Ricky and Gabby?” Trip tried to supress his delight but it came through in his body language.

“Cousins, however many generations removed, builders, looking to expand on Mars,” Jon responded, watching his husband begin to almost vibrate. He knew where this conversation headed, but decided to play with Trip a little.

“They worked out several pre-fab design with Mama,” unable to sit still, Trip paced their tiny room. “Tran-Sol delivered the first batch a couple of weeks ago. They’re up and will be ready to move into soon.”

“First, house or apartment?” Jon asked, holding out his hand so he could continue without interruption. “Are we on the list? Did we get one?”

“Both,” Trip answered each question almost simultaneously, “yes, and yes, an apartment. Houses require a family. I’m sorry, Jon.” Tucker’s mood deflated when he noticed his husband’s continued severe mood and frown.

“Well,” Archer stood, pulling Trip into his arms, unable to hold his mock deflated expression any longer, “when we get our dog, I guess we’ll qualify for a house.”

Realising Jon was in a rare playful mood, Tucker decided to make the most of it. “I should punish you for that.” Pushing Archer onto the bed, he pounced. “And I’m going to, slowly. You can just wait until tomorrow to see our new apartment.”

Jon took his punishment easily. He even managed to talk Trip into taking him to the building site for their new accommodations. The building had Alice Tucker’s stamp all over it. Low, only three stories high, the outdoor area on the roof overlooked a manmade lake left over from the initial terraforming. Mars remained mostly red, but the sky held a golden ball which gave of some heat and light. Enough for hardy plants to survive. Many resembled the flora Jon recalled form his survival training in Alice Springs. With the trees came life giving oxygen, allowing humans to amble freely around the dome encased major settlement. Grandpa Chuck estimated the controlled environment wouldn’t be required in another fifty years, giving humans complete mastery over the fourth planet in their solar system.

Ten days later Jon and Trip moved into their permanent, and much more roomy home on Mars. It would serve them well for nearly six years, until the next phase of their life started. For now, they prepared for the construction and trials of the Intrepid type warp ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taken from memory alpha. This was the description of Trip in the Enterprise ‘Bible’. 
> 
> As a young man, he spent time deep sea diving in the Florida Keys, working on an ocean reclamation project. Bold and fearless, this thrill-seeker didn't stop there. His skills at working in a hostile environment, with no gravity, dependant on artificial life-support, would eventually lead to a career in Orbital Engineering, building starships at Utopia Planetia, where he earned a reputation as a trouble-shooter who would take on challenges that most engineers think impossible


	32. Utopia Planetia: June to December 2145

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, I don’t know where this chapter came from. I sat and it wrote itself. I think I wanted to tie up some loose ends with characters I’ve introduced throughout the story so far. Maybe ones that you won’t see again, while displaying the “Enterprise’s bible” description of Trip to be accurate

Trip grumbled, under his breath, so the rest of the Engineering team didn’t hear him curse with words they probably hadn’t heard before. Located in a conduit behind the semi-trailer sized warp core, the temperature approached 40 centigrade. Space at a premium, Tucker could hardly reach his tools, let alone the part he needed to replace. Tracking down the fried relay proved challenging enough, until the crew realised its location. In Lt. Commander Tucker’s mind, some major changes needed to be made to the schematics of the next Intrepid type warp ship, especially the engine room design.

“Who the hell decided this was a suitable location for EPS surge protector,” he shouted in sheer frustration. Wiping the sweat from his eye’s, Trip tried to place the component once again. Sighing at his success, Tucker slowly and carefully made his way towards the hatch and main engineering.

“When I offered to bring you along for the ride on the first trial as insurance,” Commander Steven Goulding clapped the younger man on the shoulder, “I didn’t mean for you to do all the work. I do have a crew of twenty-five for that, Commander Tucker.”

Giving the Chief Engineer a dirty look, Trip bit his tongue. His anger directed at the design team, Lt. Commander Tucker would have a few choice words for them when he made it back to Mars. “You can let the Captain know….”

“You can tell the Captain yourself,” Jon lent casually against Steven’s alcove, watching the lead engineers with interest.

Steven and Trip bonded professionally six months ago. Commander Guilding could have seen the interloper as a rival for _Sputnik’s_ engine room when the Captain brought in Starfleet’s trouble shooter. Instead, the pair immediately started talking about plasma constrictors, warp bubble theory and intermix ratios. Jon quietly left them alone after their introduction, able to understand less and less of their conversation as it increased in speed and volume. They’d never become friends. Jon wondered why, watching the two of them standing side by side.

_Then again_ , Archer smiled internally, _Steven ships out to Earth every chance he gets. He’d have live on Earth and transport every day if Starfleet let him during the construction phase. I’m not sure why, but his wife has never come up. I’ll have to ask him about Penny, see if she remembers Trip._

“We appear to be ready for warp three,” Trip stated. Hands on hips and looking weary, he wondered about Jon’s thoughts. His husband seemed amused by something, which irked Tucker.

“Are you sure?” Jon teased lightly. “This will be out fourth attempt since launching twelve hours ago.”

“If nothing else goes wrong,” Steven added, poking his fellow engineer in the ribs. “Look on the bright side, Captain. At least we have the best trouble shooter in the Fleet on board.”

“So much for your nice little cruise around the solar system,” Trip groused, giving his husband the evil eye. “I haven’t stopped working since we left Mars.”

“Go get cleaned up, Commander Tucker, that’s an order,” Jon stated. He knew the signs. Trip hadn’t eaten in twelve hours or slept in the last two days because of his excitement. “You’re pushing yourself. Commander Guilding, Captain’s mess, 1930, no matter what the outcome of this test. The other trials can wait until tomorrow.”

“Aye, Sir,” Steven acknowledged, watching his counterpart acquiesce more easily to orders than he considered appropriate for the audacious individual.

Shaking his head as Archer walked away, Guilding had seen Tucker argue with a superior officer for much less, if he thought he could get away with it. Which only proved either Trip knew he couldn’t disobey Archer without consequence, or he was too tired to try. Noting the old-fashioned wedding ring on Archer’s finger, and the obvious friendship between the Captain and Tucker, something stirred in the back of Guilding’s mind. Even though they’d been acquainted for six months, they weren’t close, even as colleagues. Steven spent every hour possible on Earth with his family while construction on _Sputnik_ continued. Daily transports from Earth Orbial became necessary with the increased workforce required at Utopia Planetia. Archer and Trip, on the other hand, were very reserved about their off-duty hours and lived in private housing, away from the Starfleet complex. Now he thought about it, they seemed to do a lot together, or at least, the pair spent a lot of time hiking the same canyons outside the dome or participating in one of the more adventitious sports offered on Mars.

It didn’t take long to place Lt. Commander Charles Tucker III when he looked up the man in the Starfleet database and understood ‘Trip’ to be a nickname. Unsure if he’d ever been introduced to Charles, Steven recalled attending the lecture he gave in Sydney six years previously. Calling his wife, Penny confirmed meeting the man while they were stationed in Alice Springs.

“Survival training,” she said, distracted by her three-year-old wanting something to eat. “He was with a Commander, can’t remember his last name. Trip called him Jon. I think they were just starting a relationship.” Rolling her eyes and patting her rather round stomach instinctively, Penny added, “there was enough sexual tension between them to cut with a knife. The Commander told Trip not to miss the shuttle. Tell them I said hello and if we ever get assigned a house on Mars, I’ll invite them over for a meal. I’m not surprised you’ve become friends, Trip’s a good guy. Now, Halen, talk to daddy while I’ll get dinner on the table. I’m so ready to have this baby. I hope you’re going to be home soon, Steve!”

“My wife said to say hello,” Steven offered as he sat at the Captain’s table the same evening. Watching for a response, it was exactly what he expected.

Trip and Jon shared a look. Commander Guilding saw an entire conversation occur in seconds. Smiling to himself, he knew he’d hit the nail on the head and wondered why he hadn’t noticed the intimacy before. Penny understood people in a way Steven never did. He missed his wife and daughter, but without appropriate accommodation for a growing family, he wasn’t happy to relocate them from Australia. Weekends and subspace communications would have to suffice for the moment. Although, he hoped to get back to Earth and hand over _Sputnik’s_ next trial to Lt. Commander Tucker so he could be there for the birth of his son.

“I’m flattered Penny remembers me,” Tucker smiled, careful to keep the topic on inane subjects. “She got me good, pretending to be interested, only to tell me about attending my lecture in Sydney with her husband. But, man, that hover bike was something else. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“We still have it,” Steven stated. “Just waiting for the kids to get old enough to take out. I’m in the process of building a side car.”

“I’d love to see it,” Trip enthused, “when it’s finished.”

“Maybe you can visit together,” Steven fished, indicating his commanding officer and the engineer with his fork. “I’m sure my wife would love to introduce you to our daughter. Halen’s just turned three and we’re expecting a new addition in a couple of weeks.”

“Don’t tell me,” Trip stated unhappily, “you can’t get family accommodation on Mars?”

Steve shook his head sadly, as Jon stated, “it took us almost four months to get assigned an apartment, and that’s because Trip’s got relations who own the company.”

Sighing, Jon and Trip once again shared a glance. Removing the chain hanging around his neck, Tucker quickly put his wedding ring where it belonged. The act of changing between professional and personal had become ingrained with the movement. It helped that both the Captain and his spouse were in civilian clothing. Reaching over, now their relationship had come to light, Jon’s hand was waiting to encase his husband’s fingers.

“We don’t deny our relationship,” the Captain explained as his Chief watched on, “we just don’t flaunt it either. If the crew finds out,” shrugging, Jon turned to Trip and looked deeply into his eyes, “as they did on my last two ships, it’s generally accepted. There are a few who will always feel I give preference to my husband.”

“The ring?” Steven asked, intrigued.

“Old fashioned, I know, but a Tucker tradition,” Trip smirked. “It saved my finger about a month after we married. After that, I only wear it at home so it’ll survive as long as I hope our marriage does. Helps differentiate between being Commander Tucker and Archer’s little wife.”

Rolling his eyes, Jon stated, “are you going to tease me about that forever?”

“Probably,” Trip retuned with the beginning of a huge, relaxed smile. Steven watched the body language between the officers change into something warm and intimate. “Not that I’ve forgiven Mia Forest for her interference yet.”

“How long did it take for you to get back at A.G.?” Jon asked with a knowing shake of his head.

“Two years,” Trip chuckled. “He thought I’d forgotten.”

“My husband,” Jon announced to his Chief, who sat watching in silent amusement, “has the memory of an elephant. I wouldn’t cross him, if I were you.”

“Duly noted,” Steven responded. “My wife’s the same way. I guess that’s why you hold a place in her memory. I comm’d Penny before coming to dinner,” he confessed, only to once again get that shared look and an unexpected chuckle from the Captain.

“Trip’s a memorable guy,” Jon teased. “Just has to be in the middle of anything that’s going on. Makes finding him easy, when I need too.”

Guilding watched the pair for the rest of the evening, intrigued by the dynamic between these two men. They were very different in many ways, yet complemented each other at the same time. Commander Tucker, the professional, disappeared the moment that ring slid on his finger. With the appearance of Trip, Captain Archer’s behaviour softened. Jonathan laughed, teased and became generally more at ease. He found himself liking the men, and knew why his wife had been taken with, then, Lt. Tucker immediately.

As he rose to leave the Captain’s mess at the end of an enjoyable meal, Commander Guilding stated, “if you don’t want your relationship broadcast to the entire crew, I’m happy to keep this between us.”

“They’ll work it out,” Jon responded softy, a mocking glint in his eye, “eventually. See you at breakfast, Commander.”

“Aye, Sir,” Steven couldn’t stop the smile as he walked to his quarters.

It happened in the middle of _Sputnik’s_ night cycle their second day out. An emergency communication from Starfleet. Woken suddenly by the high-pitched noise from the internal communications panel on his bedhead, Archer quickly dressed. Beside him, Trip stired. Feeling a lack of engine vibration through the deck plating, the engineer hurriedly copied the Captain’s movements.

“I’ll be in Engineering,” the sleepily southern twang announced as Tucker high tailed it out of the room. Sighing, Jon was amazed at the speed with which his husband could attend his beloved engines if they were in trouble. Shaking the sleep from his eyes, Archer headed the towards the turbolift and the bridge.

“Captain,” Ensign Biuvakaloloma, their Fijian communications officer offered as the lift doors opened into the command centre, “I have an urgent message from Starfleet medical for Commander Guilding and Admiral Forest on hold for you, Sir. We have been ordered to hold station until you’ve spoken with the Admiral.”

“Put Forest through to my ready room,” Jon ordered. He’d stepped towards his station automatically. Hand hovering over the panel on the arm of his captain’s chair, he pushed the white internal communications button. “Archer to Engineering.”

“Tucker here,” came Trip’s voice.

“Where’s the Chief?” Archer demanded.

“Not sure,” Tucker waved the ensign in charge of the night shift over. Asking if he’s seen Steven, who should have been off duty, Ensign Alexie indicated the Chief check in several minutes’ prior, intending to go to his quarters. “I’ll have Commander Guilding contact you as soon as I’ve located him.”

“Let Commander Guilding know there’s an urgent message for him,” Jon stated.

“Aye, Sir,” Trip responded, slightly annoyed but more intrigued when Jon signed off in a distracted manner. “Thanks for telling me what’s going on up there on the bridge after just getting to sleep,” the engineer muttered under his breath as he stalked over to the intermix console that he assumed currently caused issues with the magnetic constrictors and thus their ability to create propulsion. They’d been playing up all day yesterday. It seemed this part of the design needed a complete overhaul.

“Something wrong, Commander,” the crewman at the station asked, surprised to see the superior officer on duty when the gamma shift just started.

“I’m looking for Commander Guilding,” Trip responded slightly irritated that nothing was going right on this short sojourn with his husband. “There’s an urgent call for him. But, you can tell me why were dead in the water.”

“Shit,” the younger man paled and then looked apologetic for his language before the Lt. Commander. “Must be his wife,” he explained hurriedly. “We all knew she was due any day. It’s all the Commander’s been talking about before we started the trials. As to the ship, Sir, I was ordered to halt awaiting further instructions. Maybe we’re going back to Earth so the Chief can see his kid born. I guess that’ll make you the new Chief.”

Trip’s whole demeanour changed in an instant as he considered this new information, “make sure you keep an eye on those constrictors. If we do need to get back to Orbital, we might need to get this girl up to speed and keep her there. So much for the trials!”

“Aye, Sir,” the ensign grinned. “Then again,” he added cheekily, “nothing like need to prove a point.”

“Was that a dig at our Vulcan friends?” Trip placed his hands on his hips and eyed the younger man.

“If the boot fits,” he grinned. Glancing behind Tucker, Johnston pointed to the hatch leading into the main corridor, “Commander Guilding, Sir.”

Pivoting, Trip went to put out that fire first. Steven headed for his alcove and limited privacy to take the call. As expected, Penny had gone into labour a month early and things weren’t looking good. Turning his brown eyes from the screen, Trip saw the sheen of tears.

“Tucker to Archer,” he immediately reacted.

“Trip, get those engines started. I need warp three. We need to get back to Orbital ASAP,” Jon’s tone sounded tense.

“I’ll do my best, Captain,” Trip closed the communication, shouting at the night supervisor to get the Beta shift back on duty. Currently they were beyond the heliopause, more than three hours travel with all the in system traffic and the asteroid belt to avoid on their course to the third planet.

Four hours later, Steven Guilding had been transferred directly to Starfleet medial in Sydney, where his family were taken for specialist attention. Admiral Max Forest waited at Orbital to board _Sputnik_ and speak with Archer. Both knew the reason. Retiring to the Captain’s mess, a coffee before them, the two men waited for Trip to join them.

“Congratulations, Commander,” Max stated, a twinkle in his eye. “It seems you couldn’t wait until you got the warp 5 ship to become a Chief Engineer.”

“Chief Engineer,” Trip spat, sinking into a seat. “Not the way I wanted to achieve the title, Sir.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t,” Max smiled. “Although the title is temporary the rank isn’t. I’ll be fielding some complaints tomorrow, from Mars base and others who wanted this assignment. There will be more than a few who think this is staged. Bringing your husband on board, when your Chief Engineer’s wife was ready to drop that baby…”

“Honesty,” Jon sighed, understanding the politics, “I didn’t know until Steven told us a couple of nights ago. The last six months,” throwing his hands up in the air, Archer spared a glance at Trip, “I haven’t had time to get to know my crew as well as I would like. Hell, Trip and I haven’t spent much time together and when we do, a call comes through to return to Utopia Planetia with some issue or the other that needs immediate attention. The constraints on getting _Sputnik_ out of dry dock has been, tough. Half my crew were sleeping on board to escape Starfleet’s substandard living conditions and I can’t say I blame them. When is that situation ever going to change?”

Sighing, Max looked at the pair. “We’re building another dome. Not something Starfleet wanted to do with the terraforming coming along on schedule. The resources for the project just got more limited because we’ve had to divert them to the new project. Without Tucker Technical,” shaking his head, Max didn’t bother going down that route. “We never foresaw a reason to expand this base until the atmosphere was breathable on the entire planet.”

“Meaning that the old guard at UESPA were following the Vulcan timetable for humanity getting to the stars,” Trip added sarcastically.

“Commander Guilding has been given six weeks parental leave,” Forest changed the subject, hoping to avoid giving away other Starfleet issues. “He might need more, but the position will remain his.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Trip mumbled, his blue orbs bouncing between Archer and Forest. “With all due respect, Sir…”

“If that’s your way of telling me my decision incorrect,” the Admiral’s tone became lower and harder, “I suggest you stow it, Commander. The order came from the Yamamoto. Commander Wu is being temporarily resigned from the Academy to back fill your position on Mars. We’ve managed to find him a house for his wife and four children. I believe he’ll wish to stay after his sojourn.”

Sighing, Trip shook his head. “I could do with the help and Wu really didn’t like teaching. This job at Utopia, it’s turned out to be bigger than I expected. Not only is Starfleet expecting more than one man can handle, Jamie’s got his hand in so many pies, with relatives coming out of the wood work to start-up businesses, I’m not sure suggesting it was such a good idea.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Forest demanded. “We have calls, almost daily, from various departments so remote from the field of engineering, or enterprises not related to Starfleet at all, asking specifically for you, Commander, because your reputation of fixing issues others wouldn’t touch has travelled that far. Do you know, I had to intervene when Admiral Gilligan demanded I send you to the colony on Alpha Centauri a month ago?”

“Makes _Sputnik_ look like a holiday,” Jon chimed in mockingly. Before his husband could arc up with so little sleep in the last week, Archer stood and placed a hand on the back of Tucker’s chair. His fingers touched Trip’s neck, softly, delicately, reminding him of the first time Jon affected him with the caress. It had been at his twenty first birthday party, just after they gotten together. The warmth and love associated with the gesture calmed Trip but not his rising temper.

“This isn’t going to look good, as you’ve already indicated, Admiral,” Commander Tucker glared at his spouse, breaking away from the controlling action and standing. “I’m going to catch some shut eye before my shift starts in a few hours. If you’ll excuse me, gentleman, I’m going to **my** quarters.”

“Let me handle him,” Jon suggested when the Admiral sent Archer an enquiring glance.

“I didn’t know Trip had quarters,” Max tried for jovial.

“Neither did I,” Jon confessed. “It wouldn’t be the first time he’s slept in a different bed, or on the couch when he’s mad at me. It happened a couple of times on _Al Biruni_ , but we got over it. He’ll probably come crawling back in an hour of two, complaining that he can’t sleep in a cold, lonely bed.”

“Just remember,” Max rose from his seat and prepared to leave, “getting the warp 2 vessel into the main fleet is more important than any other project Starfleet has schedualed at the moment. We have to prove _Sputnik_ and her sister ships are capable of housing the warp 2 engine before we can convince them to start on the warp 5 version. Right now, Commander Tucker is in the best place to ensure that happens.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you make him Chief Engineer from the get go?” Jon demanded, understanding the subtle hint. Once again, the Vulcan’s had taken humanities halter and were directing their course in an attempt to slow down progress towards true interstellar exploration.

Giving his protégée a disappointed look, Forest hissed, “politics.”

“Tucker Technical’s involvement in all this, is that important to Starfleet’s goals,” the Captain demanded.

“Yes,” Max answered heatedly, “they have taken a lot of resource issues out of the equation, issues Starfleet is not prepared or able to deliver at this moment. Yamamoto can’t allow James Tucker to fail.”

“He’s picking up Starfleet’s slack,” Jon realised, understanding Jamie was as much a victim of manipulation as Trip, only he’d gone into this willingly. “He’s their insurance policy against the Vulcan’s. That’s why they’ve give him access to everything.”

Watching his long-time mentor walk away, Jon shook his head. _I just hope Jamie hasn’t bitten off more than he can chew. Then again, the number of Tucker relatives we’ve put up for a few nights while they check out business opportunities on Mars this last six months has been astonishing. Next thing we know, the annual New Year’s Eve Party will be held on Mars._


	33. Mars: January to June 2146

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to try and keep this story to a chapter a year until Enterprise launches. However, if I get an idea and need to run with it, you might get more. Once we get to the series, there are some episodes I just have to include, like Unexpected, which came to me in a dream and conceived the entire surrounding plot. The Enterprise years will be at least one chapter per year. Oh, who am I kidding, I’ll try to make them a single chapter but it depends on how much Trip and Jon want to share. They have many years after exploring the galaxy to tell you about, so I don’t see this ending any time soon.
> 
> I had a query about the state of housing on Mars from one of my most loyal reviewers. So, Trip and Jon get an apartment because 1) Jon holds the rank of Captain, and rank has its privilege, even in the twenty second century, 2) Trip’s related to the builder, 3) Alice Tucker designed the complex and finally 4) they paid for private housing – as in it’s not Starfleet’s basic accommodation.
> 
> Penny and Steven Guilding might qualify for housing, but as Chief Engineer, the Commander has quarters on Sputnik and his family lives in Starfleet accommodation in Australia. They can’t have their cake and eat it too. Steven, like the rest of Sputnik’s crew is attempting to acquire the sort of house he wants his family to live in, not what’s on offer. Supply and demand, he probably can’t afford to rent, as Jon and Trip do with a double income and no kids.
> 
> Wu’s house might not be to his taste, but in order to keep Trip and James, aka Tucker Technical, happy, Starfleet are bending over backwards to accommodate Cheng See Wu. This doesn’t mean he and his family are going to be happy with what they get. Only that they will bypass the que.
> 
> I hope that clears things up.

“Happy New Year,” Vicky O’Shea hugged her brother-in-law rather awkwardly.

Once again, the Tuckers gathered in Key West for the annual New Year’s Eve celebration, Jon’s sixth, if he didn’t miss his guess and counted the year he spent at Lee and Pieter’s wedding. With more than one hundred members stationed or living on Mars, it didn’t seem to make an appreciable difference to the number of bodies packed into the hall. Neither Trip or Jon thought they’d make this year’s event with Sputnik’s trials and the interruption of an impending birth. Master Edward Guilding was doing just fine in the arms of his mother. His father would be ready, but not willing, to take back is post in two weeks. Admiral Forest arranged for the Captain and acting Chief to spend some of Commander Guilding’s parental leave, along with the rest of their crew, on Earth. It just happened to coincide with the last two weeks of December, making Alice Tucker extremely happy. However, they’d report back onboard Monday 3rd January 2146 to complete the last in system trials before moving onto the final stage of _Sputnik’s_ shakedown cruise, the journey to Alpha Century.

“So, number what, four, five?” Jon teased, careful to avoid disturbing the smallest and newest O’Shea sleeping in her mother’s arms.

“Four, as you know very well, Jon, and this one is it,” Vicky shouted happily over the music. Handing over the three-month-old to her uncle and rolling her eyes, she explained, “after three boys, I finally got my daughter. Now, I think its time I found my husband and we shared a dance. Jamie and Pam took the boys back to the hotel with their daughter, Alison a couple of hours ago.”

“Left holding the baby, Jonny,” Trip goaded. Slinging an arm around his spouse’s hips, Tucker snuck up on Archer and blindsided him. Last Jon saw of his husband, Trip had been busting some moves with his little sister, until her boyfriend of the moment intervened. “I’m hoping we have something warm and cuddly to look after by the end of this year.”

More than aware of Tucker’s inebriated state, Archer shook his head. The opportunity to let loose hadn’t occurred on Mars with their hectic work schedule and his husband was making up for it in a single night. Just as well Jonathan Archer knew exactly what Trip was talking about. From the look on several faces around them, assumptions were being made by the ever-expanding Tucker clan, especially with a baby in Archer’s arms and the fact they’d been married a little over two year.

Dr. Sying comm’d the moment she found out the pair back on Earth. They’d gone to stay a couple of nights with the family in Boston. Tanamil assured Jon and Trip they’d have a pup before 2147 started. Bonnie, Marty’s granddaughter, had recently come into season for the first time, and they were considering letting her have a litter later in the year.

“I think it’s time we went back to the hotel,” Jon lent down and whispered into Trip’s ear.

Trip smiled back lasciviously. Archer shook his head, knowing his husband would hit the bed and be asleep. There was no way Charles Tucker III could be get it up, much less perform, with the amount of alcohol in his blood. Jon also knew Trip wasn’t happy with his current assignment, even if they were together on the Earth’s most advanced space craft. He’d been getting some pretty major backlash from his friends, colleagues and superiors for ‘jumping the que’, especially after they chose, then managed to get, private housing over remaining in Starfleet’s less than satisfactory accommodations. There wasn’t a day at least one com come through to _Sputnik_ for Commander Tucker, requiring his expertise with a technical inquiry or problem to solve. Trip became tense and frustrated when he couldn’t devote his entire mind to the issue. He really loved chancing down complicated and idiosyncratic engineering glitches.

Moving Maeve into the crook of his left arm, Archer place the other around Trip’s shoulders. Looking around, he found Alice standing with Charlie, Uncle Bob and Grandpa Chuck. They looked weary and ready to return to their lodging. Sighing, Jon moved them, very slowly, in that direction. It seemed Trip’s feet weren’t responding to his brains inebriated messages. Handing the baby off with a significant look at his partner, Jon wondered how the kid could sleep with all this noise. Midnight had come and gone, the loud count down with accompanying kisses, hugs and handshakes between family members now a distant memory, and yet, little Maeve continued to slumber. Alice indicated she understood Archer’s predicament without the need for words. Reaching over, she took the baby like a professional, before clapping her son on the back of the head. Trip looked suitably dazed, then chastised, which made Jon’s job of getting him to their room in the suite Alice rented that much easier. Thankfully, the hotel was only a short walk down the road.

“What the hell did I drink last night?” Trip asked, holding his head the next morning. Light steamed through the open blinds, sending shards of pain directly into his brain.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with a cup of coffee in his hand, Jon shrugged and kept a stern expression on his face. He knew the question to be rhetorical but couldn’t help a little pay back. When Trip finally managed to sit against the head board and lock his bleary eyes on his husband, he sighed and gratefully accepted the offered drink. Managing to hold the mug in both hands, he took a life-giving sip.

“Did I do anything stupid?” he asked with a wince as the liquid gold slid down his parched throat.

“Besides the entire Tucker troop expecting us to expand our family by the end of the year,” Jon teased lightly, “nothing particularly noteworthy or out of character, for you.”

Groaning while running a hand down his face, Trip allowed his blue glare to rest on his overly bright and cheerful spouse. It took several minutes and the rest of the coffee for Archer to finally administer the hypo hidden in his pocket. His head finally clear, Tucker recalled his comment while Jon was holding their latest Niece.

“I really put my foot in it,” Trip stated acidly. “I don’t think anyone will believe me when I tell them we’re getting a Beagle puppy.”

“Your answering the com’s from your mother for the next year,” Jon laughed easily. Leaning in, he gave Trip a perfunctory kiss on the forehead before standing. In his running gear, Archer ruffled his lover’s hair. “I’ll see you later, sleepyhead. Everyone’s meeting in the restaurant down stairs for lunch before going their own way. I promised to take the second buggy on a run with ex-Major O’Shea. One double pram and a five-year-old on a bike while trying to run is hard enough.”

“Your taking all the kids?” Trip squeaked.

“Would you prefer I leave them here to wake up Uncle Trip?” Jon mocked. “Let’s see, Cullum’s five, Robert’s four, Sam’s two. I believe that’s all of your sister’s son’s. Then there are the babies, Maeve and Jamie’s daughter, Alison. That last one has a set of lungs on her. I don’t know how Jamie’s kid wound up the loudest of them all!”

“Take a long run, Jon,” Trip slid further down into the pillows as each child was named, then covered his head with the blanket. “A very long run, all the way around the point and keep going.”

“You’re still going to have to face your family,” Archer teased as he left the room. _This little escapade should be good for at least the next year_ , Jon’s mind offered happily. He’d already spoken with Alice and Charlie over breakfast, clearing up the misunderstanding. However, Trip’s parents weren’t going to be so lenient on their son.

“Jon,” Rory waved the man over the moment he exited his room. “How’s Trip’s head this morning?”

“Better,” Jon smirked, “thanks for the hypo. Although I made him work for it.”

Giving a short chuckle, Rory indicated the buggy with the two older boys waiting patiently. He could see Jon’s reluctance to take the heavier children as they moved out of the apartment and into the hall. This entire floor of the hotel had taken by Trip’s immediate family. The rest of the Tucker’s filling the other rooms and suites.

“I’ve given you the easy job,” Rory stated with a twinkle in his eye. The father knew his children. The boys would watch their manners with Uncle Jon, being on their best behaviour. “Trust me, it’s all in the way you handle this thing. If you juggle the babies the wrong way while they’re sleeping, you’ll pay for it.”

“I believe you,” Archer returned, not quite sure what he’d gotten himself into.

They made it out of the building and started to increase their pace as they left behind the grounds. On the boardwalk, anyone seeing the pair coming moved out of the way. Two men and five children were not something you wanted to argue with. Beside the buggies, Callum happily kept up on his old fashioned peddle bike. They’d covered more than a kilometre before Archer spoke.

“So,” Jon asked, only a little breathless. Pushing nearly fifty kilos proved his fitness needed boosting. Archer also understood there had to be a reason behind this run, besides getting the kids out for a few hours.

“Mars,” Rory returned with a side long gaze.

“Moving?” Archer raised an eyebrow. It seemed everyone remotely related to the Tucker name had heard of the opportunities on the planet and wanted to get in on expanding humanities foothold in the red dust.

“New start,” the Ex-Major shrugged. “I hear they need doctors.”

Nodding, Jonathan Archer understood. Mars, and the Utopia Planitia site in particular, were growing at an amazing rate with the Intrepid project. They needed good people of every profession to settle on the red planet. The second habitat would be complete at the end of April, then the housing developments and facilities could start construction. The Gale creator location had been chosen for its natural resources and a circus style tent composed of clear aluminium to encase the colony. The paper-thin material would stand for years, protecting the new infrastructure from the gritty red partials.

“We could use you,” Jon nodded his agreement. “House?”

Smirking, Rory slowed so they could talk properly. “Tucker contacts come in very handy at times. We’re guaranteed the minute we make the final decision.”

“Have you told Alice and Charlie?” Jon asked, his hazel eyes displaying his mixed emotions.

“That, my friend, it the reason I have all four children,” Rory answered mockingly. “Vicky’s telling them now. After I left the military, I’ve been searching for something. A nine to five job at the local clinic or hospital’s not for me. I want challenge and adventure. I think we’ll have that on Mars.”

“Sure will,” Jon responded easily, although is expression was tempered with a slight frown. “Although, you should have talked to Trip. He’s spent more time living on Mars than me. I only stop over between trials at the moment. Even when we were finishing up construction on _Sputnik_ , I had to transport between Earth, Jupiter and Mars at least a couple of times a month. Last year was hard, Rory. I don’t think Trip and I spent more than five months together. Mars is like that, rugged, wild, untamed, even fifty years after first colonising, it’s still a frontier. You’ll find there are more needs than resources, more space than facilities, more beauty and adventure, if you willing to go out and find it.”

“But a growing Tucker presence,” Rory smiled sarcastically.

“With the size of the family,” Jon returned in the same tone, “I don’t think anyone’s safe from tripping over one of them anywhere in the galaxy. We’ve played host to a range of guests just getting started on Mars. There are opportunities, for anyone willing to take them.”

“What do you think of Jamie,” Rory stated, only to stop suddenly and consider his words. They were, by an act of marriage, outsiders to the Tucker clan in reality.

“He needs keep his concentration on Earth,” Jon didn’t bother hiding his thoughts. Archer had been considering this topic since that conversation with Admiral Forest a month previously. Trip often spoke about his brother and Tucker Technical, becoming more invested than he realised, just, Archer thought, as they wanted. “Let the rest of the family in on the Solar System, after all there are enough of them with the ability and experience to succeed. One man can’t do it all.”

“Starfleet,” Rory almost cringed on saying the word.

“Have their own agender,” Jon’s good nature suddenly evaporated.

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Rory replied sorrowfully.

Stopping dead, Jon sighed. The other buggy and bike slowed before circling back. Archer looked into his brother in law’s warm expression and stated, “don’t get involved in that fight, Major. Take your discharge and family and do what you think is best for you. I, well, I wouldn’t change a thing. Trip and I are on track to get what we want despite some major manipulation by Starfleet and Tucker Technical. I have the man I love more than life itself at my side and I’m going to Captain the first truly interstellar ship created by humanity with my father’s engine powering it. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Nodding, Rory silently acknowledged all that was not said. _If Jon and Trip weren’t heading in a direction they wanted, I wonder if they’d still be in Starfleet. I can’t imagine them doing anything else. Then again, with Jamie’s business acumen and insight,_ shuddering at the idea of a single person or family owning that level of technology, ex-Major O’Shae didn’t want to complete the thought.

The conversating remained with Jon long after he’d returned to _Sputnik_. Another month went by before the Vulcan’s were happy with the in-system trials. Trip left the moment Steven returned to his post, citing the amount of work awaiting him on Mars as the reason. It meant Captain Archer saw his husband every eight or so days for a week.

“Captain Duvall,” Jon held out his hand as if the two hadn’t know each other for almost fifteen years. The beginning of June heralded the official handover of _Sputnik_ to her permanent captain and Archer couldn’t be happier. He just wanted to get into a normal routine and back to living in the same space as his spouse.

“Captain Archer,” Anders accepted the easy salutation with an enormous grin.

“Let me show you around your first command,” Jon suggested, his eyebrows rising slightly as the men moved down the main corridor.

Longer voyages outside the heliopause in the last month proved the warp 2 vessels could sustain her intended key performance indicators, much to the Vulcan’s displeasure. The warp 5 engine became Commander Tucker’s and Wu’s main priority while the rest of the Intrepid type were finally under construction with some major refinements. Meaning tonight, Jon might actually get to sleep in his own bed with is husband for the first time in more than a month.

“We can finish in the Captain’s mess and talk about the crew over lunch,” Archer suggested, stepping into the turbolift. He’d start the tour in the engine room and finish on the bridge. “I’ve invited Commander Guilding, the Chief Engineer, and Lt. Commander Appo, your First Officer to join us.”

A smile still plastered on his face, Anders Duvall nodded his acceptance. He’d been the last of the four test pilots to achieve the rank of Captain. Robert Gardiner had been promoted after the NX Beta fiasco and appointed leader of the test pilot team. A.G. Robinson had to wait six months after Jon received orders to oversee the construction of _Sputnik_. Duvall felt he had the best deal of the four friends come rivals. His appointment meant he wouldn’t be bouncing between assignments for the next few years.

“Permanent Captain of the first warp 2 vessel,” Ander’s whispered to himself, reverently touching the bulkhead.

“Just remember,” Archer teased, “who put her through her trials and got the Vulcan’s to sign off on the design.”

Snorting, Duvall returned in the same tone, “wasn’t that Tucker? Without him, I heard this bucket wouldn’t have gotten off the drawing board, especially after your first Chief Engineer skipped out on you for most of the in-system testing.”

“Steven Guilding’s back, so don’t think you’re going to entice Commander Tucker from his current posting. Starfleet’s got bigger plans for him. Besides, Trip,” Jon couldn’t help the pride shining through his voice, “has made some major changes on your sister ships. _Freedom_ and _Shenzhou_ need to put them in place before they start manufacturing the hulls. I’m told modifications have to be made to accommodate reorienting the Engine room.”

Shaking his head, Duvall wondered what made Starfleet name these vessels after the first Russian, American and Chinese manned space craft. It was rumoured the final Intrepid types were going to be called _Apollo_ and _Soyuz_. He sure hoped the warp 5 vessels had traditional names with some meaning behind them, like _Challenger_ or _Discovery_.

“How is your husband?” Duvall asked as they wandered the corridors, wanting to change the subject. “I heard he’s doing good work at Utopia Planitia. Good enough for his reputation to reach all the way out to Titan, where I’ve been buried for the last year.”

“Sue,” Archer shook his head. He’d heard through the grape vine that inexorably linked all Starfleet sties. They decided to separate and were currently in the process of getting a dissolution. “I’m sorry.”

“Turns out she didn’t like being at home alone with two kids. Can’t say I blame her for finding someone else,” Duvall swallowed hard.

“You too?” Jon questioned, keeping his voice low. He knew the signs, after such a long acquaintance. Of all the pilots, when he considered it, Robinson was the least likely to get married, followed by Duvall. That his marriage lasted almost seven years should have come as a shock, but it didn’t. Archer found himself saddened by the end of the relationship, but more especially the acrimony on both sides.

“Afraid so,” Ander’s confessed with a sad smirk. “Nothing permanent, just something to scratch the itch. I guess you wouldn’t understand, with Trip always at your side.”

Snorting, Jon gave his friendly rival a withering look. “It’s not been easy at times, but marriage, my vows to my husband, they mean the world to me. I’d never break Trip’s heart that way. We’ve been separated, but we make sure our assignments bring us back to each other as often as possible.”

“When you have kids,” the older man stated, his tone turning hard, “and Trip’s not able to just pick up and join you, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

“Maybe,” Jon said, softening his voice while shrugging his shoulders, “maybe not. Gardiner’s managed all these years. Trip and I have talked about it, how we’d cope in the same situation.” Holding up his hands before Duvall could make a heated comment, Archer offered in a conciliatory tone, “I’m not making any judgement’s here, Anders. I just think it’s sad for you, Sue and especially the kids. In the end, you have to do what’s right for you.”

“Damn straight,” Duvall acknowledged. With a sudden sigh, he stopped dead in his tracks. “I never should have married her.”

“We live and learn,” Jon commented, while his heart told his mind that he’d never regret his own marriage. Suddenly, the mind numbingly boring assignment Starfleet had given him for the next year on Mars looked just a little better. Jonathan Archer would go home to their one bed apartment on a dusty red planet, eat dinner with his lover of six years and sleep in the same bed, Trip spooned against him. _Enterprise_ loomed in the future, his husbands team working out the issues required to push his father’s engine towards warp 5, while the designers attempted a carcass able to surround and sustain the same speed while keeping the crew inside safe.

In that instant, Jon truly realised his life’s dream and just how close they actually where to achieving it.

“Three years, Jonny,” Trip smirked when he heard all about Archer’s day and his personal revelations. “I’ll have it all worked out in about three years. She’s going to be bigger than anything we currently have. Has to be. There are new systems that will need incorporating. The deck plating needs to be a thousand times stronger than anything we currently have, just to avoid micro-meteors. Then there’s something called a deflector that the science types are working on. It’ll sweep anything out of Enterprise’s path. Amazing piece of technology, if they can get it to work. And you ought to see the new developments in protein sequencing. Not that I’d eat anything that machine spits out at the moment. But we got five years, I’d say. Sometime in ’51, if those pointy eared devils don’t create too many waves.”

“I’m going to keep you to that, Babe,” Jon whispered, allowing his breath to tickle Trips ear. They’d already made love in the kitchen, dinner forgotten in the hurry to reunite. Then again while showing together. It seemed Jonathan Archer couldn’t get enough of his spouse. Finally fed, they were cuddled up in bed for the first time in six weeks and really talking.

“What’s gotten into you, Jonny?” Trip demanded. Turning on the light, he sat up and glared down at his husband.

“I love you,” Jon responded, pulling the confused man under him. “Now, stop your talking and kiss me.”

“Duvall,” the light finally switched on in Trip’s brain after several minutes of passion. Rolling them over, Tucker pinned his husband to the bed. “That’s not going to happen to us, Jon.”

“Damn straight it’s not,” Archer’s tone sounded harsh, reversing their position.

Smirking, Trip became compliant and offered, “so, what you going to do with me?”

“Everything,” Jon promised before demonstrating his determination to do just that.


	34. Family: July to December 2146

As far as Captain Jonathan Archer was concerned, nothing of significance occurred in the second half of ’46. His relationship with Trip started with the engineer gone every second week to retrofit the entire fleet with the new injector/manifold assembly. Now, it seemed, Jon’s turn had come, continued and didn’t look like abating any time soon. Starfleet used Captain Archer to fill any vessel whose hard-working commander required leave when he wasn’t in the Utopia Planitia simulators testing out every minute change to the Intrepid type helm, or training new pilots for that very same helm.

“You know,” Archer spooned his husband after yet another sojourn, this time on _Pembroke_ , while attempting to look on the bright side of his current posting, “it’s good practice for _Enterprise_.”

“How’s that?” a sleepy but satisfied Trip muttered. The insatiable man almost jumped on Jon the moment he walked through the door. Something Archer learnt to expect after being away more than a week.

“I’m experiencing the differing styles of command used by various Captain’s and moulding them into my own,” Jon whispered, not remotely tired but smiling at his exhausted spouse.

Jonathan Archer’s body clock remained on _Pembroke_ time. Stomach rumbling, Jon smirked and wondered if Trip had any leftovers in the stasis unit. Not that Tucker’s cooking skills were more than basic. Deciding he’d make an omelette, Jon pulled his husband in for a cuddle and heard Trip’s contented sigh before he dropped into slumber. Commander Tucker, as always, had a big day tomorrow and needed his sleep.

“Night, sweetheart,” Jon sighed before carefully extracting himself with a kiss to Trip’s temple.

Awake, wired and on leave for the next five days, Jon decided to take a run after eating and consider his life. In the eighteen months they’d ‘technically’ been stationed on Mars, the changes in the planet were astounding. Hardy moss grew outside the habitations, clinging to life in the cold, low oxygen atmosphere and on valley floors. A human could exist beyond the protective dome, if they came from the Andes and were accustom to high altitude environments. Captain Jonathan Archer continued to wear a modified ‘lite’ version of an EV suit, providing both warmth and life-giving oxygen while on his run. He hadn’t acclimatised to Mars that well, but then again, he hadn’t spent that much time actually on the surface of the red planet.

A maglev train connected Utopia Planitia with the Gale Crater settlement. The high-speed transport took a little over four hours to circumnavigate Mars with several independent mining and fabrication towns along the route. In a few months, the O’Shea family would take up residence in one of the first houses built out of completely Martian materials in the new city. A third or fourth cousin started Red Rock Constructions and proved as astute as the rest of the family in terms of success. They would build over half the residences in the new dome by the end of the year and lobbied the prevailing council to increase the number of dwelling created from native materials, further promoting Martian businesses, independence and the use of natural resources.

Shaking his head, Jon knew they couldn’t escape Trip’s family. The shuttle service between Earth and Mars took less than an hour from one orbital station to the other and departed every twenty minutes due to the traffic associated with the Intrepid type vessel construction. Grandpa Chuck had been threatening to visit since New Year, just to witness the terraforming project first hand. The technology used to clean Earth of radiation post WWIII served as the catalyst for making Mars liveable. Technology that started Tucker Technical and had been developed, at least in part, by Charles Tucker. If he decided to make the journey at this moment in time, he’d arrive on their doorstep within two hours of leaving his own.

“Trippy,” Chuck surprised them one day late in November, just dropping in with an overnight bag in hand, “Jonny. I’m expecting a bed and a tour of the poles. I want to see how much ice is left.”

“Let me contact Starfleet,” Jon gave Trip a wary look at the sudden and unexpected visitor, “and see what I can arrange through official channels.”

Archer rather though this impromptu visit something to do with his husband refusing to answer any com’s from his family. After that gaff at the start of the year, Trip had come in for some good natured but unrelenting teasing. All had gone quite on the Tucker front recently, prompting Jon to wonder why. Alice and Charlie came with Vicky’s family to help them settle in, but didn’t make the journey to Utopia Planitia. They’d travelled to Gale Crater for the weekend, helping the O’Shea’s move into their new house.

“One of those new shuttle pods will do nicely,” Chuck called, his grandson leading him towards the kitchen as Archer headed for the alcove containing their home office. “I’ve booked the Trans-Martian train tomorrow. Vicky’s expecting me.”

“Why didn’t you let us know,” Trip asked, biting his tongue to keep his frustration out of his tone, “you were coming. We would have made arrangements.”

“Now where’s the fun in that,” the nonagenarian smirked cheerfully. “I heard you been putting up relatives for the last year. I didn’t think you and your husband would mind me dropping in for a visit. Not that I thought your relationship would last this long. Oh, and your Mama asked, when you going to give her grandchildren. You expecting?”

“Only a Beagle puppy,” Trip sighed heavily, watching Jon enjoy his discomfort from the doorway. His husband never missed a moment of his family teasing hime.

“You’re twenty-six,” Chuck reminded, taking a seat and settling himself, “and not getting any younger. Jonny here’s in his mid-thirties. Just how long you going to wait anyway?”

“About another ten years,” Archer responded, only to field a haughty look and unimpressed sound from Grandpa Chuck. “And I’ll have to find another way to get you to the poles. Starfleet’s a bust.”

“So,” Chuck demanded half an hour later, after catching Trip up on family politics, “you get that shuttle pod Jonny-boy?”

“I did,” Jon smiled easily. It had taken calling in a few favours from Tucker relatives who didn’t want Chuck camping on their doorstep. One recently started a day trip business. “A sightseer version with a clear canopy to give you a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view. I’ll even be your pilot. We have to wait until cousin Billy Tucker is finished showing some Earthlings around though.”

“Maybe there’s hope for you yet, Jonny-boy,” Chuck nodded his satisfaction. “Now, what about some hospitality.”

Handing the older man his third cup, Trip offered, “tea, white, one sugar.”

“Just the way I like it,” Chuck let out a self-satisfied sound. “What about one of those cookies your so good at making, Jonny? I especially like the ones with macadamia nuts.”

“Careful grumpy,” Jon managed, just, to hold back the chuckle at the nickname that had stuck somewhere in this second year of knowing the original Charles Tucker, “anyone might think I’d actually grown on you after seven years.”

“You’d grow better if you were mixing a batch of those cookies,” Chuck complained, before turning his eye on Trip. “And thinking of expanding you family. What’s the hold up, Trippy? I’m sure Vicky’s done with her lot. Didn’t that friend of yours, the doctor, have his sister….”

“Don’t go down that road,” Jon skilfully interrupted while getting out the ingredients to make Grumpy’s treat. “You’ll never get kids if ex-Major O’Shea thinks I’m so much as considering the idea.”

Archer shared a look with his husband, indicating he’d set up the cot they’d be sharing tonight. Grandpa Chuck and Trip’s parents were the only one’s able to move them from their bed. Mostly their visitors took the uncomfortable contraption or the couch in an effort to prove their point. Mars was still a frontier by most standards and they should learn not to expect the luxury of Earth.

“Amazing,” Chuck commented under his breath a couple of hours later. Beneath the shuttle pod, white overlay red, but the amount of frozen water shrank every year. “Fifty years ago,” Chuck stated, no longer teasing as the cumulation of his life’s work could be seen outside, “this ice field was ten times as thick and three times larger. Thanks to the Verteron array, the colony at Utopia Planitia could be established at the turn of the century. How far they’ve come.”

Smirking behind his stern pilot’s façade, Jon commented. “I know there where small mining settlements a hundred years ago.”

Waving them off, Chuck dismissed the self-contained environments that moved or temporary bases inhabited as needed while Earth endured the post atomic horrors. “Utopia,” his voice strengthening with each word became laced with determination, “was the first real settlement, the first permanent town, the first UESPA base on Mars. Everything else grew out of there. The Verteron arrays had to be placed in specific locations, to ensure those ice caps melted and provided the water to seed Mars’s atmosphere.”

Trip touched his husband on the shoulder. Turning for a quick glance, Jon witnessed the spectacle as spouse intended. Charles Tucker the first stood on the port side of the shuttle pod, one hand on the clear aluminium glass, his eyes glued on the picture below and an expression of astonishment on his face.

“I think,” Jon commented after their importune visitor departed for Gale Crater and the O’Shea household, “you grandfather can die a happy man.”

Nodding, Trip found himself welling up with tears as they lay in their bed. He didn’t want to think about losing a beloved family member, even if he could be a grumpy old cuss at times. “He’s ticking off his bucket list,” Tucker agreed.

Pulling his husband into his arm, Jon whispered, “then we’ll have to find a reason to keep him around.”

“How long has Grandpa been staying with you?” Trip demanded of his sister. He really didn’t need to ask the question. Chuck left their front door four weeks previously and never went back to Earth.

Sighing, Vicky gave her younger brother a glare. “Actually,” she commented in an icy tone, “its not that bad, nor is his idea, Trip.”

“But why did he decide to stay on Mars?” the engineer asked.

Deflating, Dr. O’Shea shrugged her shoulders. “You know Grandpa. When an idea gets into his head, you can’t divert him, especially since Grandma passed. Trip, he’s really great with the boys and it’s taking a load of Rory and I now we’ve started the clinic. Robert’s been playing up with Callum at school, so Grumpy explained that Uncle Bob felt the same way when he went to school all those years ago. He’s got the boys to share a room, even if it is so he can have one to himself. Sam hangs on his every word, asking every question about engineering under the very weak Martian sun. Grumpy has the patience’s of the saint with him, answering every query with age appropriate explanations. Sometime we forget he had six kids of his own.”

“I heard from Mama,” Rory chimed in over his wife’s shoulder. “Alice said he hasn’t spent much time with them this year and is divorcing himself from Tucker Technical.”

“Doing the rounds,” Trip suggested thoughtfully. Rory chuckled in agreement. “I think he’s ticking off his bucket list, Vicky.”

“I agree,” she looked contemplative. “Then it makes sense to give in gracefully. We’ll have New Year’s here.”

“Mars’s year isn’t the same as Earth’s,” Jon called out. Sitting in their living room, he heard the conversation form the study alcove and it intrigued him. He’d wondered at the suddenness of Charles Tucker’s arrival on their door step. It seemed they’d found the reason. “Why not have a party at Vicky’s a day earlier, then all return to Earth for the annual Tucker get together.”

“Cause it’s not what Grandpa wants,” Trip sighed. “How are we going to do this, Vicky? We don’t have the room and nor do you.”

“I have a plan,” she grinned wolfishly.

“You wouldn’t have called if you didn’t,” Trip glared. “Out with it.”

“Pieter and Lee have the house backing on to ours. They move in next week with their daughters. Lee’s starting at our practice. We could use a Psychiatrist,” Rory hinted in the background.

“Hey,” Trip sounded hurt, “how come you get to know what **_my_** friends are doing before me?”

Vicky’s chuckle joined Jon’s. “Lt. Commander Wagner has been transferred to Utopia to head up Starfleet’s Centre for Space Medicine. He contacted us after speaking with you. We have kids, Trip. Lee needed the prospective of parents rising a family on Mars before making his final decision. A word in our cousin’s ear and we managed to get them a house and some pleading secured Lee’s professional abilities part time. His girls are his world and we had a word with our day care facility. Mireya and Soon Ye both have places in the same room as Sam. It’s not what you know on Mars, it’s who you know.”

“Jamie’s been threatening to come take a look,” Jon added. “A party will give him the chance to catch up with you at the shipyard, as well as any of the cousin’s he’s helped get started. You know, this might work our better in the long run, Babe. I’m not sure either of us can take more than a couple of days off. We have that Omega training on Titan mission in a couple of months.”

“Don’t get me stated on that traitorous child,” Vicky complained to her mother a week later. Seated in the back yard of their Martian house with her brothers and sister, the nucleus of the Tucker family watched their partner’s and kids put up the tent’s in the back yard for the ‘Mars’ New Years party. The next two days would be fun and elbow room only. “I have to thank your husband for my kids calling him Grumpy, Trip. Grandpa seems to like the title and only plays up to it with adults.”

“Maeve’s hanging off his leg,” Trip’s eyes boggled the first time he saw the sight. It seemed Grandpa Chuck found his nitch, at least for the moment, with Vicky’s family.

“Just wait until Mireya and Soon Ye get here,” Vicky sighed theatrically, “then he’ll be carting around the three youngest women. Alison’s the only girl who’s weary of him. So, you and Jon staying with Pieter and Lee?”

“Nope,” Trip indicated the tent Jon erected. “We’re hosting Callum. Apparently, he wants to be a pilot and needs to ask Uncle Jon every question under the sun.”

Rolling her eyes, Vicky muttered, “sounds like one of my sons.”

“Pam and I’ll take your room,” Jamie chuckled slyly. “We’ve been trying for number two, but it’s just not happening. I’m hoping a change of pace and location might help.”

Shaking her head, Lizzy looked on her elders with pity. “I’m a convert, Trip,” she stated in a theatrical whisper. “If I ever decide to get married, and the chance is looking less likely, it will be a long time in the future. Don’t expect me to be going this whole kid thing any time soon.”

“What ever happened to that warm and cuddly bundle you were expecting by the end of this year,” Alice waited for the right moment to tease.

Trip looked forlorn, making Mama regret asking. “Dr. Sying tried breeding Bonnie. She passed away before the pups were born. You know Rimbo, their eldest, has gone into Starfleet. He’s studying at Stanford for the next four years. The other kids are all at high school and busy. They decided to stay a one dog family and Billy’s too old for more puppies.”

“I’m sorry, Trip,” Lizzy reached out to her brother. She understood him better as she matured. “I know how much you wanted this.”

“I wanted a house on Mars,” he stated mournfully, “but we didn’t get that either. Not that I’m complaining. Truth is, Jon and I are busy and I’m not sure it would be fair to have a dog.”

“You never know,” Alice stated wisely. “The universe sometimes has a plan for us that’s not consistent with our timetable. You’ll get your dog, Trip, when the time’s right.” Standing and taking in a long breath, Mama became the matriarch. Their moment as a family ended, Alice looked out on the progress of the rest of the guests. “Right, let’s get this show on the road. Lizzy, Vicky, kitchen with me. Trip, round up Jon, Lee and Pieter and get started on cooking those burgers. Jamie, put those skills as a CEO to work and get the tent’s up before your father and grandfather get to distracted by the kids and all their questions. We’re eating in one hour.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Trip offered, causing his siblings to smile. Heading over to the construction area, he greeted his long-time friend with a hug. “Haven’t see you in a while. Hopefully we’ll see more of you, living on the same planet.”

Trip shouldn’t have been so glib. The next time he encountered Dr. Wagner would be in a professional capacity as a result of the Omega mission.


	35. Omega Mission: February 2147

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: from episode 3: Fight or Flight “Remember when your EV pack froze up on Titan during the Omega training mission? You got nitrogen narcosis. You started to try to take off your helmet. I ordered you to keep your helmet on. You were delirious, thought you were going to die, but you obeyed that order because you trusted me.”
> 
> This chapter became so long, I had to break it into two. It also took a lot of research into Nitrogen Narcosis or being “Narked” for authenticity. I hope you enjoy.

“When are you shipping out to Titan?” Chuck requested.

Once again, the older man unexpectedly showed up on their door step. It seemed Grandpa refused to go back to Earth and live in the back-yard studio of his eldest son. Currently, Chuck made his home with Vicky and her family at Gale Crater. However, Grumpy dropped in about once a month with the expectation of staying at least overnight. To that end, Jon and Trip invested in a very expensive and comfortable sofa bed. If they were going to be put out of their bed on such a regular basis, they might as well get a restful night’s sleep.

Archer looked at his husband with a quizzical expression, asking if he knew they were expecting a visitor. Trip shook his head, trying to keep the mirth from his eyes. They both knew why Grandpa Chuck made the unannounced appearances. He’d say he came to ‘inspect’ Jamie’s investments at the Utopia site. Realistically, he kept a quiet eye on the extended family and their growing business interests. Still as sharp as a tac, Charles Tucker proved a good resource for many in the younger generation. It kept, in Trip’s mind, the older man involved and gave him a reason to continue living. However, the Commander would bet Grumpy’s current visit had nothing to do with the extended family.

“Would you like look after our apartment?” Archer made the offer, understanding Chuck knew exactly when they were schedule to leave. “We’ll be gone three to four weeks, but you don’t have to stay the entire time, if Vicky’s kids need you for something.”

“About time you offered,” Chuck smirked happily. “An old man likes his own company every now and then.”

Rolling his eyes, Trip pretended to be exasperated. It meant Grandpa Chuck had some hairbrained scheme he wanted time to think about and the space to consider how to put said idea into action. “We’re leaving on a shuttle in the morning for a debrief at Starfleet headquarters.”

“Why do you think I dropped in, unannounced, with my suitcase,” Chuck smiled happily, making himself at home by heading for the bedroom. His voice floated from that general direction as Trip and Jon retreated to the kitchen. “I want pictures of your mission and lots of them. Been thinking about ways to terraform that moon. You know it’s the only rock in this system with Earth like conditions. Liquid methane in the oceans, atmospheric pressure a little higher than Earths, gravity equivalent to the moon. Wouldn’t take much to make it liveable with all the new technology they’ve used to terraform Mars. Couldn’t do much about the cold though. Sun’s just too far away, but there is the light from Saturn. Maybe some kind of array?”

Shaking his head, Jon didn’t utter a word while Trip extended their meagre meal to cover a third plate. Unlike Starfleet accommodation in San Francisco, they had to shut down their apartment before going on missions of any length, which proved on of the negative aspect of a private rental. They were down to left over noodles from the previous night and eggs. Not much of a meal for two men, let alone three.

“I’ll call out,” Archer offered, quietly. Chuck’s ears still worked extremely well. The man could hear a whisper at a hundred metres, if he chose, or ignore a crying baby in his arms.

“No need,” Grumpy, who seemed anything but tonight, called out. Carrying their Starfleet issue duffels in one hand, he dumped them in the living room. In the other hand, a stasis bag. “Vicky said I couldn’t impose without bringing something.”

“Oh, man,” Trip cried, his nose understanding the moment Chuck opened the container. “You haven’t lived until you taste Vicky’s Guinness pie. I don’t think she’s ever made it for you, Jon. You’re in for a real treat. Come on, let’s eat while it’s still hot.”

“So, Grumpy,” Archer started the interrogation after they’d finished dinner and were seated in the living room with a drink, “what’s the real reason you dropped in this time?”

“I been hearing rumours,” he watched the pair carefully. Seated on the opposite couch, Jon’s arm casually slung over Trip’s shoulders, they appeared content. “That you’re expecting to expand your family after this mission.”

“Someone can’t keep a secret,” Trip sighed, looking at his husband with a guilty expression.

“Trip?” Jon asked, more than a little confused.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Tucker confessed. “And my birthday **_is_** coming up. Besides, Tanamil called a few days ago and you’ve been so busy getting ready for this mission. A friend of one of her colleagues has a Beagle who’s just had pups. Four boys and we have the pick of the litter. I arranged to go take a look before we ship out to Titan but the pup won’t be ready until it’s twelve weeks old.”

“A dog,” Grumpy’s response lived up to his name. “I though Vicky talked to you about carrying a baby.”

“Now, just a minute,” Trip started, only to be silenced by his husband’s pointed glare.

“Trip told me we have to get a dog first,” Jon chuckled, enjoying the older man’s disbelief. Turning serious, Archer sighed, while locking gazes with Tucker. “We don’t want to go that way, Grandpa. It worked for Pieter and Lee, but it’s not what we want. If,” Tucker glared at his spouse, “when, Trip and I are ready for kids, were going to find a way for them to have both our genetics. They will be our children in every respect.”

“I remember,” Chuck considered thoughtfully, “hearing stories about the Eugenics from my Grand pappy, about how they were grown not born.”

“Vicky and Rory have agreed to carry our child,” Jon stated, although Trip obviously hadn’t been involved in that conversation by the look on his face, “if we can find a way to make the embryo from our combined DNA. But,” Archer warned, his hazel gaze locking with his husband’s, “we have years before we’re at that stage. Who knows what advances in technology will be around by the time we finish up with _Enterprise_.”

“Did you really mean it, Jon,” Trip asked in a whisper as they lay together in the living room. Archer carried the conversation with Grumpy for the rest of the evening while Tucker ruminated on their earlier discussion.

Archer understood the intent of his spouses’ question. “About kids, yes, Trip. It came up while Pieter, Lee, Rory and I were talking at the New Year’s Eve party.”

“That was months ago,” Trip stated hotly, pulling out of his husband’s arms. Sitting up, he glared. “You’ve never said anything.”

“We talked about it as a theoretical concept, something we wanted for the future,” Jon sighed. “Rory said he and Vicky were always going to make the offer of surrogacy after hearing about Pieter and Lee’s difficult journey to become parents. However, they don’t want half sibling for their kids, Trip. Any children would have to be ours, genetically. Rory’s looking into options for us, but there is nothing that wouldn’t break at least a dozen United Earth laws at the moment. Besides, I’m not ready, Babe. _Enterprise_ is on the drawing boards; your team is making advances every day and Starfleet is gearing up for exploration. That’s what this training mission is all about. Testing new equipment capable of withstanding the rigors we’ll encounter out there in the galaxy.”

Somewhat mollified, Charles Tucker III returned to his position, in the arms of his long-suffering spouse. His mind worked on the thought while his heart knew, somewhere, somehow, in the future they’d get their three offspring, just the way they wanted. _Jon’s right, now is not the time to be considering a family, even if I enjoy watching my nieces and nephews in his arms. He’s better with kids than he realises. I guess it’s just because that part of our life is not in Jon’s sensor range at the moment. A pet, that’s a different matter altogether. I’m sure my husband can talk Starfleet into taking a dog onto Enterprise as one of the Captain’s perks. Until then, the little fella will have to stay Mars-side with me._

His mind conclusively settled, Trip finally fell asleep. Beside him, Archer sighed. He knew the thoughts running through his husband’s mind. They’d address them, in about ten years. Jon knew they’d still be young enough to cope with the trials and tribulations that additions to their family would bring.

Captain Archer wasn’t so sure the next day. Seated outside Admiral Yamamoto’s office, a stunning blond woman captured Trip’s attention the moment she entered the space. After three and a half years of marriage, Jon had become used to his husband’s sparkling personality and ability to charm any woman within a fifty-metre radius. Somehow, this encounter proved vastly different. Even Jon afforded the individual a second glance. He’d once told Trip, while he preferred men he wasn’t blind. Of course, Lt. Hess’s anatomy went way beyond the bounds of normal when he made the comment.

_You’d have to be blind not to notice this lady_ , Archer’s alter ego supplied. A dominant presence surrounded her, adding to her attractive looks, slim body and ultra-fashionable style. She screamed ‘high maintenance’. Sending a side long glance at Trip, he smirked before whispering, “close your mouth, Commander.”

“What,” Trip’s head rocketed around. Eyes wide and pupils dilated, he gave a self-mocking grin at being caught. Standing, Tucker approached the woman, nodding as if they knew each other. “Captain, let me introduce you to Natalie de Veer. Nat, this is Captain Jonathan Archer.”

“Pleasure,” Natalie offered in a honey sweet tone that instantly had Jon’s instincts on high alert. She might be shaking Archer’s hand, but the woman’s eyes were on **_his_** husband with a predatory gleam. She’d already spotted Archer’s wedding ring and dismissed the older man.

“How do you know Trip?” Jon asked easily, attempting to gain her gaze and warn her off.

The seemingly inconsequential words drew a sharp breath from the man beside him, along with a glare. Commander Tucker knew that tone and realised he was in trouble. Jon might seem pleasant, but his hackles were up and his jealous streak showing. Trip knew he had to manage this situation, very carefully. Infidelity was not in Jonathan Archer’s vocabulary. They’d discussed cheating, agreeing at the very beginning of their relationship on the shuttle to Cairns, such behaviour would be a deal breaker for both of them. That didn’t mean Trip couldn’t look, after all he might be married but he wasn’t dead.

A short chortle interrupted the silent and private conversation between Captain and Commander conducted through a locked gaze. Eyes raking Trip’s body, it became obvious to Jon that Tucker and Nat had once known each other in the biblical sense. “We attended MIT together,” Natalie answered with a purr, running a finger down her ex-lover’s arm. “After the brief, I’ll let you take me out for a drink.”

“Sorry,” Trip managed through a dry throat. He knew he’d lost control of this situation and Jon was about to put his Master’s degree in diplomacy and biting disdain into action. “I have to see a man about a dog.”

“Interesting offer,” Natalie stated with a knowing expression. “I’m sure I can do better.”

“Woman,” Jon interrupted, deciding to put a stop to this before it went further. “Mother of an old girlfriend. She had a dog I was crazy about while we dated in high school. I didn’t know she bread English Beagles until she contacted me last week. My husband and I have been trying to adopt a puppy for over a year.”

“You didn’t tell me you knew Rebecca!” Trip stated, confused, upset and completely blindsided. One hand raked through his short, blonde hair, the other rested over his sternum, where his wedding ring lay while on duty. Putting the chain around his neck before leaving their apartment had become such a habit, Commander Tucker refused to change his routine on days when he didn’t play with his warp engine.

“I didn’t think it mattered,” Jon responded with an easy shrug. “And you weren’t the only one looking, especially as it’s your birthday next month.”

Suddenly embarrassed, Commander Tucker’s cheeks became red. After their mission, Alice and Charlie insisted they spend a weekend in Florida. Grumpy and the O’Shea’s had agreed to come from Mars for the celebration. It seemed the whole Tucker clan would be together once again. No one knew how much longer these opportunities would exist, before Trip and Jon shipped out for their five year mission.

“You’re married,” Natalie pointed a manicured finger between them, “to each other?”

“Four years,” Trip stated, once again patting the ring nestled near his heart while locking his azure gaze on his spouse, “in September.”

Shaking her head, something sounding suspiciously like ‘what a waste’ issued under her breath the same moment Admiral Yamamoto exited his office.

“Gentleman, Miss de Veer, please follow me. Captain,” Neoga turned to Jon with the expectation Archer would step into the space beside him as they transverse the corridor. “The rest of your team are waiting in the conference room. Admiral Forest will lead the brief. I expect you’ll be leaving on _Valliant_ the day after tomorrow.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jon responded, wondering why they had been scheduled to meet with Yamamoto, when it seemed his mentor controlled this mission. Something seemed off, which had Jonathan Archer’s senses on high alert.

“This will be the first of many missions,” Neoga indicated slyly, “as we complete the testing phase for the warp 5 engine. Starfleet has employed Dr. de Veer’s design and implementation team to modernise our survival equipment and the shuttle pods.”

Raising and eyebrow, Jon wondered exactly what this operation on Titan meant in the grand scheme. “They could use an update,” he agreed. “I understand the NX Kappa and Lambda are under construction and due for completion by the end of May.”

“You will be reassigned to the Complex and the flight team in due course,” Yamamoto stated easily. “We’re hoping to break in some new test pilots, now Duvall, Gardiner and Robertson have their commands. It’ll be your show, Captain.”

“Trip?” Jon requested. The Admiral understood the unasked question.

“Could I separate the pair of you if I attempted it?” Neoga mocked.

“You’ll need _Enterprise’s_ Chief Engineer for the testing phase,” Archer smirked. “I want those engines in the best shape possible before we allow the Vulcans to pick them apart.”

“Agreed,” the Fleet Admiral stated sardonically as they rounded the corner to the conference room. “Once we have completed the test flights, construction will commence on Mars and there you will stay until the launch. I expect you to oversee every square centimetre as she comes to life.”

“Try and stop me,” Jon muttered under his breath, sensing the older man drawing away.

“Captain Archer, Commander Tucker,” Max greeted the pair with a curious expression. Waiting for Yamamoto to decide if he would stay for the brief, the older Admiral smiled before reversing direction. Forest understood he wanted a private conversation with Jon and Trip after this meeting. Pointing to the individuals standing around the table, Admiral Forest introduced them to their commander and his executive officer for this mission. “Lt. Commander Malkovich, Lt. Tango, Crewmen Able, Chernyshevsky, White, Forsyth, Jones and Kaur. Please be seated while I hand over to Dr. Natalie de Veer.”

Nodding, Jon acknowledged each member of his team. He sat first, followed by the lower ranks. Eyes forward, Natalie took centre stage and owned it. The display screen behind her lit up, revealing two EV suits. It didn’t take long for the explanation, on the right a tried model that had been in service since the post atomic horrors, on the left, a new design incorporating the best technological advances in the last thirty years.

“Three teams of three,” Natalie indicated, after explaining the specifics which only Trip truly understood. “Commander Tucker’s team will trial the new oxygenation system, Lt. Commander Malkovich’s team the helmet assembly, and Lt. Tango’s team the hand and feet connections. Captain Archer, you will be our standardising test subject wearing the currently issued suit. All the new components are made of lighter, more flexible materials to aid movement and prolong away missions in hostile environments. The pack has been streamlined to half the size of the current model.”

“What about the new shuttle pods? Rumours have reached Utopia,” Trip interrupted when it seemed the woman finished.

“I’m glad you asked, Commander,” Natalie aimed a million watt smile towards Tucker. “Your team will be trialling both the latest version of the shuttle pod and three temporary habitats. You’ll be landing in the Xanedu region which is extremely flat. The housing pods have been delivered and set up. Usually these would be carried onboard as flat packed emergency structures, each capable of providing shelter for ten to twelve crew. You’ll spend seven days at each location analysing the design and liveability of the habitation.”

“EV suits are not necessary on Titan,” Lt. Commander Anna Malkovich stated with more than a little rancour in her tone. Science blue at her shoulder with the patch of the terraforming corps, little would escape her notice on this mission. “There is also atmosphere and gravity on Titan. Cold and lack of oxygen are the major concerns for the mining colonies already set up on Saturn’s moon. We could use the ‘lite’ suit developed on Mars with modifications to trial these habitats. Total EV suits are not necessary.”

“We considered that, but are aiming for a more robust examination of several new products at once. That’s what makes Titan such a good testing site,” Natalie shifted her attention to woman for only a second. “Any issues will be in a controlled environment. Unless someone take off their helmet, you should be able to survive on the oxygen and heat in your suit until help arrives in a worst-case scenario. The second stage of testing will be under more trying conditions.”

“Trying conditions my arse,” Trip mumbled to himself three days later. Dressed his EV suit, the backpack containing the oxygen and heater proved to be light, manoeuvrable and easily attached to his uniform. Each person in his team had variations on a theme. Tucker’s pack slipped over his head in a single moulded piece. Crewman Jones’ snapped together on the rigt side of her chest. Crewman Chernyshevsky’s, who they called Chern for simplicity, hinged at the shoulders. So far there seemed little difference between the setups which were designed for a person to suit up without help.

_Strike one,_ Trip thought sourly. _Goes against every regulation in the book. There’s a reason we have someone check our connections and ensure everything’s hunky dory. It’s called survival._

“Trip,” Archer warned in his straight-laced Captain’s voice, although a burgeoning smile could be seen, if you looked through his outdated gold-coated helmet. Jon noticed the thoughts going through his husband’s head. Trip didn’t like the fact they would be on duty for the next twenty-one days. Meaning their relationship had to take second place to the mission.

By the time the briefings finished on Wednesday evening, they hadn’t been able to fit in a quick trip to upstate New York to choose from the litter of Beagle puppies. A com to Rebecca had to suffice, with the promise of seeing the adorable scraps of fur in four weeks. The next morning Archer and Tucker, along with the rest of the team, had been fitted with their experimental EV suits, collected their gear and shipped out on _Valliant_ to Titan. They spent the better part of the journey getting to know one another.

Captain Archer spent most of yesterday putting the new shuttle pod through its paces with his crew aboard. Room had been tight dressed in their EV gear and Trip grumbled about his pack shafting. Luckily, the team only had wear the new uniforms, not test them, so their helmets sat at their feet while on the shuttle pod. Although they’d been assigned separate quarters, Commander Tucker managed to sneak into Archer’s bed both nights while aboard _Valliant_ , and sneak out again in the morning. Not something Trip would or could attempt in the emergency habitats, so Jon had allowed the infraction.

This morning, the team finally landed on the surface of Titan and were exploring the area surrounding the new habitat. It consisted of a central hub with four attached pods. The schematic allowed for twelve individuals to bunk in three of the peripheral rooms. A central area hosted a living room, work area and small galley. The final pod acted as an airlock and storage area for their equipment. As yet, Captain Archer’s team hadn’t stepped foot inside. The plan, to spend as much time outside each day testing and evaluating Dr. de Veer’s upgrades to the suits though a series of survival exercises. By the time they trooped inside their austere home for the next week, everyone was tired, hungry and felt more than a little unsettled.

_Which explains Trip’s surly mood, but_ , Jon exhaled sharply, _I can’t let him get away with it in front of the rest of my team. I guess I have to lay the law down now_.

“Capt’n,” Tucker acknowledged the rebuke over a private channel. This, the first time they had really worked in the same chain of command since being promoted to Captain and Commander, Trip tried the diminutive and found he liked it.

“Swallowing those vowels again?” Jon teased lightly, attempting to take the sting from his words as they waited for the airlock to cycle.

“I’m a Southern boy,” Tucker stated with a wide grin.

Snorting, Jon commented, “you’re so much more than just a Southern boy, Trip. It’s a persona you’ve created to hide behind. I’m not fooled.”

“I wouldn’t want you to be, Capt’n,” he returned with a teasing tone. Watching Jon and the others, Tucker knew his team had it easy by comparison.

Lt. Commander Malkovich’s team drew the short straw, assigned the new helmets. They were boxy, difficult to connect to the head ring, but the increased field of vision meant you didn’t need to turn your head to see things on the peripheries. None of the units were plated in gold. Malkovich, Able and Forsyth each had a different coating on the exterior. Able, their Australian, didn’t like the heads-up display incorporated into his unit, while Forsyth, the Canadian, seemed impressed with her model. Lt. Tango, along with White and Kaur trialled the gloves and shoes. Their group seemed happy enough with the improvements but commented that it was early days yet. They expected any issues after wearing the light weigh foot coverings for a couple of weeks. The material seemed too fragile to stand up to the rigors of this mission.

“Home sweet home,” Trip commented in a slightly more jovial tone.

They finally entered their habitat after eight hours outside and were able to get the suits off, starting with their helmets. He’d been cold the entire day. Taking the time to look over his pack, finding nothing wrong, he gave up attempting to increase the temperature. He’d have to mention it to the designers and get them to add a thermal regulator.

Each end of the entry pod held a locker for their EV gear. The officers, out of habit congregated at one end while the enlisted took the other. Noticing the division, Jonathan Archer knew he couldn’t allow his team to separate along the lines of rank. This mission, to approve the survival equipment that would form part of his _Enterprise_ , was to important. Every person had their role to play, if they were to survive the next twenty-one nights.

“I want each team to take one of the sleeping pods,” Archer ordered, cutting off the retort he saw forming in Trip’s eyes before he let his mouth run away. “There is a bathroom attached to each. I don’t need to tell you, this is a survival habitat, so conserve as many resources as possible.”

“It’s going to get real stinky real fast,” Forsyth muttered, her glare on Able, her very large and hairy teammate.

“Commander Tucker,” Jon ignored the good-natured bantering, “your team is in charge of feeding us. Lt. Commander Malkovich, you get your turn tomorrow.”

“I guess,” Tango sighed, “we get day three in this hell hole, Sir.”

“You got it,” Archer smirked, appreciating the Islander’s humour. “I’ll pull my weight and do day four. Then we start all over again.”

“So, you only get one go,” Trip shook his head, “while the rest of us have to do it twice.”

“There’s only one of me, Commander,” Jon pointed out, indicating each team consisted of three. “I’ll be bunking out here in the living room. I want daily statements on your personal equipment as well as a group assessment so I can include them in my report to Starfleet. It’s due at 1800, ladies and gentleman, so I need your ideas on a PAD and in my hand within the hour. We eat at 1830 hours tonight and 0700 hours in the morning, so you’d better use you time wisely. Dismissed.”


	36. I'd Give My Last Breath: February to March 2147

Shaking his head, Commander Charles Tucker led his gaggle to the nearest sleeping pod. As the highest ranked officer, apart from Captain Archer, the other team leaders allowed him first choice. After all, rank still had some privilege in this day and age. The tiny space consisted of a set of bunks along either wall with a locker at the end and a door leading into a miniscule bathroom.

“All the comforts of home,” Trip smirked mockingly, meeting the eyes of Nickoli Chern and Aleah Jones. The mattresses were thin, the blankets survival issue, the beds hard and space at a premium. “Nothing like survival training. Last time Starfleet sent me to Alice Springs. I couldn’t wait to get out of the heat. Now I’m on Titan and all I want is to get warm.”

“I thought the officers would bunk together,” Aleah offered timidly, obviously uncomfortable in this situation. On a ship, crewmen bunked two to a cabin and officers got their own quarters. Generally, Starfleet issued accommodation based on gender, but not always. Humanity had gotten over their prudish modesty in the limited confines of space. 

“Nope,” Trip responded, his smile getting wider in the hope of making the Brit less self-conscious, “I’ve known Capt’n Archer seven years. He’s by the book. Us bedding down together, it’ll create a good working relationship. Now, any of you cook cause my better half grimaces every time I go near the kitchen.”

“I do a mean ration pack,” Chern offered in his heavily accented standard while shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t look at me,” Aleah held up her hands, her smile just a touch wider. “Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I’m domesticated. I eat at the commissary or order out when I’m not aboard ship.”

Sighing, Trip sent Aleah off to use the bathroom first. They needed to clean up and removed their urinary devices after nearly nine hours in their EV gear without a break. They’d have to prep the suits for tomorrow, checking the oxygen tanks, heating elements and refilling the drinking bladders. Peeling back the top half of his one-piece undergarment, Tucker hissed.

“Commander,” Chern looked concerned, his eyes narrowing to the problem area.

“That damn pack’s rubbing me the wrong way,” Trip complained, running a hand over the edge of his lower rib cage. It looked raw and angry in places. “Seems to be creating pressure just here.”

“You take the bathroom next, Sir,” Chern offered.

“You’re just trying to get out of cooking,” Trip teased, moving the conversation away from himself. “But, I’m going to take you up on your offer. I think I’ll get the med kit and see if there’s some salve in there. How about you get started with your thoughts on our suits and how they performed today. Aleah can go next, when she’s out of the bathroom. Then we can discuss the report for the Capt’n. After that, we’ll see if we can find some rations packs to heat up, cause someone going to have to help us all if the cooking left to our team.”

“I’m so looking forward to that,” Aleah called from the bathroom in a mocking tone. To which the men rolled their eyes. Starfleet rations were notorious for their cardboard flavour and consistency.

“Now, that’s one area Starfleet could improve,” Trip muttered as he reversed out of the tiny space.

“You won’t get an argument from me, Sir,” Chern responded cheekily, watching the Commander leave their pod.

“How’s the suit?” Jon asked when his husband appeared in the main room only a few minutes after leaving with his team. Archer used the toilet in the living area to dispense with his bodysuit and change into his working uniform, before seating himself to get a start on the first days reports.

“Chafing bad,” Trip sighed. He’d like nothing more than sitting on the couch with Jon’s arm around his shoulders. They talked about how the next three weeks would play out their last night in San Francisco. Tucker made sure they spent plenty of time in bed together before starting this mission. Enough to make up for three weeks of going without his husband’s embrace and special brand of attention. “But, I suspect I’ll live. Jones and Chern don’t have the same problem. I guess the all in one model’s failed already.”

“Keep me informed, Commander,” Archer turned into the Captain once again. He noticed how his sudden transformations between friend, lover and superior affected Tucker. _You have to get use to this, Babe, if we’re going to be effective on Enterprise_ , Jon’s eyes stated. _It’s not like Al Biruni or any of the other missions we’ve been on together. I’m solely responsible for the health and well-being of nine people under my command twenty-four seven. We can’t sneak off to my quarters for some alone time. Besides, there are going to be times I need to shut you out._

Nodding his understanding, Trip’s breath hissed out through gritted teeth. “Aye, Capt’n. I guess I’ll take a look at what stores we have in the kitchen.”

“Not much,” Jon watched his culinarily incompetent spouse’s frown deepen as he opened every cupboard door, “I’d guess by that look, Commander.”

“Ration packs,” Trip stated morosely. “Well, at least I can’t burn those. Looks like the meals are going to get mightily boring mighty fast.”

The habitat had little in the way of entertainment. Luckily, Commander Tucker thought to bring a pack of cards. Kaur had down loaded a few board games onto a larger PAD. Between the two, the evening passed pleasantly enough. By 2200 hours, everyone disappeared into their quarters, leaving Jon alone in the living room. He settled onto the couch, which proved as comfortable as bunks his team used. Starfleet survival equipment couldn’t be called forgiving by any means.

“Jon, you awake?” came the whisper low enough so no one else would hear, but woke the commanding officer immediately.

“I am now,” Archer grumbled, looking at the clock on the wall as he sat up. “It’s midnight, Trip. You should be asleep.”

“I needed your arms around me,” the commander sounded odd, plonking himself down almost on top of his husband. “Just for a few minutes. I’m cold and can’t get warm with those damn survival blankets.”

Relaxing enough to give into the request, Archer found Trip’s behaviour odd. Tucker wasn’t a needy guy. He held his own in the arguments they’d had, even starting a few when something at work riled him and he brought the problem home or he felt Jon got a little to domineering. Their lovemaking wasn’t one sided, however, Trip usually took the initiate and started it, letting Jon know when he be the one bottoming. As to the cold, Jon recalled a number of times his husband’s frigid feet landed on his calves with the aim of warming them up. This behaviour, especially after the long talk about expectation on this mission, proved extremely abnormal.

“What’s gotten into you?” Jon asked softly, feeling Trip’s fingers and finding them cooler than normal. He’d need to find an extra blanket before returning to bed.

“I was hoping you,” Trip returned, sighing when he felt his husband tense up. “But I know that’s not going to happen or how you’re going to warm me up. I don’t know, Jon, maybe it’s just reality setting in. All this, it’s a precursor to _Enterprise_. In a few years, we are going to be exploring the galaxy with the equipment that passes on this mission. There’ll be no more family barbeques in Florida for birthdays, dinners with Pieter and Lee at their house on Mars or going out with the engineering team to celebrate a milestone. It’ll just be me and you, out there.”

Tightening his hold, Archer kissed the crown of those silky, blonde locks he knew so well. “and eighty odd other humans, Trip. Another five minutes, then you need to go back to bed.”

“Jon,” Trip’s tone pleaded and he held on tighter.

Sighing, the Captain gave his husband a quarter of an hour before sending him back to his pod. The same thing occurred for the next three nights, with Trip extending their time together as much as possible. During the day, Commander Tucker preformed his duties as expected, never once indicating there was anything other than friendship between the two men. Jonathan Archer watched with a careful eye, unable to put his finger on what caused the neediness in the small hours of the morning.

Finally, their seven-day stint in Habitat One was up. Dressing in their EV suits, the ten-person team moved on to the second. This design gave even less privacy, with bunks situated around the edge of the open living area and a single multi-stall bathroom. In terms of emergency equipment, it provided little in the way of comfort but could be established extremely quickly and took up little storage space.

“Well ain’t this just dandy,” Trip let the words fall the moment the team stepped into the habitat. “I guess my team’s on meal prep, Capt’n.”

“You got it, Commander,” Jon tried to make light of the situation, however he didn’t like Trip’s tone. If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn his husband had been drinking. Tucker had that mild buzz about him that came with three or four beers. His reactions in the shuttle pod and while leading his team on the survival exercises today proved less dexterous than normal. It took Trip longer to think and even more shockingly, his co-ordination was suffering. “How’s that suit standing up? You have any more issues with the pack shafting?”

Grunting, Trip gave Jon a seriously annoyed glance. “I can handle it.”

“I think,” Archer grabbed Tucker as he walked by, hoping to have a quiet word, “I’d better take a look, Commander.”

“Is that an order, Sir,” Trip responded, his tone soft but his expression hard.

“Yes, it is,” Jon hissed. “Take down you’re under garment.”

“No,” Trip placed his hands on his hips. “I’ll get the med kit and see if there is any more salve left.”

“You’ve been through a whole tube?” Archer hissed. To which he received a glare and the Commander stalking off towards the hygiene facilities. Shaking his head, Archer called Lt. Commander Malkovich over for a quiet word. “Have you noticed any changes in Commander Tucker?”

“He’s becoming short tempered, Sir,” Anna confessed, “the longer we’re on this mission. Everyone’s doing as well as they can with little privacy and no real break. Jones said Commander Tucker’s married, wears his wedding ring on a chain around his neck but he’s not the only engineer that dose. She thinks he’s missing his wife.”

“Wife,” Archer tried not to expose his emotions at the inaccuracy. While he and Trip didn’t hide their association, they didn’t flaunt it either. It seemed his crew hadn’t noticed Commander Tucker’s late-night forays into the Captain’s arms.

“What about you, Sir,” Anna indicated the gold band, “aren’t you missing someone at home?”

Smirking, Jon shook his head. “Part of the job, Commander. We all knew what we signed on for. Keep an eye on Commander Tucker for me. I’ve known Trip a long time and his current behaviour is strange.”

“Will do, Captain,” Anna smiled easily, “but I’m sure there is nothing to worry about. He seems like the type to blow up and then it’s over. I bet he’s better at breakfast.”

“It’s my job to worry,” Archer stated under his breath as she walked away.

Observing his crew, they seemed to be bonding well. Trip’s exuberance at the dinner table helped swallow the, by now, bland and unchanging diet of rations. Always the centre of attention, Archer could see it was slightly forced. Tucker kept rubbing a spot on his chest, where his ribs met his sternum, as if it was troubling him. However, if Jon though he could get his spouse alone for a quiet word, it seemed Trip was determined to either avoid or ignore him. Not wanting to call his husband out, Archer decided to watch and wait.

The next morning, just as Lt. Commander Anna Malkovich predicted, Trip seemed his usual bright and bouncy self. He cajoled his team into a friendly match with the others after their training sessions. Jon would play referee for several games of touch football. The results were hilarious in the low gravity and EV gear without a clear winner. Yet, the cycle of bad mood, slight intoxication, dyscoordination and getting better by the morning continued throughout their week in the second habitat. Archer couldn’t work it out, unless the suit proved more uncomfortable than Tucker stated in his reports. He did notice the moods were worse on days they spent more time in the EV gear.

“Eagle Scout,” Jon eyed his husband through the visor of his EV suit.

Captain Archer landed the shuttle pod five kilometres from the last habitat. The aim, to walk the distance to the site of their final week’s stay on Titan. The key indicator had been left till late in the mission deliberately, to test the endurance of the suits after wearing them in. They’d been outside another six hours when Trip’s attention span suddenly snapped. It seemed the Commander couldn’t concentrate and became overwhelmed by an innocuous statement.

“How can I forget,” Trip stated sourly, “when you keep telling me,” before tacking on, “Sir.”

“What the hell’s gotten into you, Commander?” Archer demanded, switching his suits communication channel to private.

It seemed the problem Tucker kept to himself was about to come bubbling to the surface. Jonathan Archer knew his husband well, seeing the signs of internal frustration building. Trip’s temper often got the better of him, however, the resulting explosion proved brief but powerful, devastating a small radius. Thankfully, with the private communication, the radius encompassed only the Captain. Sighing, Jon knew the team still had three exercises to complete today and Trip had slowed them up, meaning it would be another hour before they could enter their sanctuary for the night. All it all, it’d been a trying day that never seemed to end.

_Perhaps,_ Jon speculated, _if Trip gets whatever it is out of his system, we can get on with the job at hand. Then I can discipline him privately._

“Nothing,” Tucker returned, even more sourly and surly than his previous comment. “Absolutely nothing and that’s part of the problem.”

“I’m not discussing our personal relationship, Commander,” Jon became incensed. “Get you head on straight, Trip.”

“My heads on straight,” he retorted, hands going to the seal of his helmet, “it’s my chest that’s the problem.”

Instantly on alert, Jon approached the issue carefully. Somewhere in his brain, he started to recall signs and symptoms that explained Trip’s odd behaviour over the last two weeks. He’d never been ‘narked’ but heard of Tucker’s only major experience with Nitrogen Narcosis. On a dive during his first days on at the Undersea Residence, he’d become suddenly euphoric, alerting his dive buddy that something had gone seriously wrong. Luckily Trip’s dive buddy read the signs and returned them to the underwater habitat.

_But,_ Jon’s mind considered, _narcosis only occurs under pressure, usually at depths greater than 30 meters. It took more than twice that to affect Trip. It’s about nitrogen bubbles crossing into the brain and causing these effects. If we were diving, I’d make him surface and the issue would be solved. But, only Trip’s suffering and there’s no excess atmospheric pressure to speak of. This doesn’t make sense._

The sound of panting made Jonathan Archer look at the man before him. Commander Charles Tucker was in full blown panic mode, something he’d never seen from the unflappable engineer. Temper, yes, pure, unadulterated terror, that was something altogether different.

Trip’s fingers reached for the clasp to his helmet as he muttered about not being able to catch his breath. Uncoordinated, the digits didn’t seize the latch the first time around. It didn’t stop Tucker trying again, each breathe becoming harsher. Understanding he only had seconds to come up with a solution, Jon opened the channel to the other members of his crew. Lt. Commander Malkovich understood the tone in his voice immediately. Signalling to the rest of the team, she called for a medical evacuation. Lt. Tango and the crew attempted to herd Commander Tucker towards the habitat. They listened as Captain Archer tried to talk Trip down.

“Trip, look at me,” Jon pleaded, forcing his brain to focus. He needed to be Captain Archer, not loving husband. Clearing his throat, he put authority into his tone. “I said look at me, Commander.”

“I can’t breathe,” Trip gasped, pulling at the catch once again. Only his fingers delayed response and dyscoordination stopped him being successful in his endeavour which frustrated and panicked the man further. “I got to get this helmet off. Help me, Jon, I can’t breathe.”

“Trip, stand down, that’s an order,” Jon tried for his best command tone, even though his entire body shook with adrenalin filled fear. He couldn’t lose his partner in life, not this way.

“You don’t understand,” Tucker whined. “I ain’t getting enough air. I got to get this helmet off. Help me, Jon, please.”

“Better or worse,” Archer attempted another tact in a hard and uncompromising tone. “Until death parts us. I’m ordering you to keep that helmet on, Commander. You need to trust me, Trip. If you take it off,” shaking his head, Jon grabbed his husband’s shoulders, “you’ll die and I’ll be left here alone.”

“I won’t leave you, Jon, I promise,” Trip took in a long, shuddering breath.

“Good, now follow me,” Archer ordered, moving to Trip’s side. Taking his arm, he led the delirious man towards the habitat. “Concentrate on your breathing, Commander. One foot in front of the other.”

It seemed to take an eternity, but they made it. Each breath becoming harsher, Archer kept talking, ordering, cajoling until they were in the airlock. Many hands made short work of Tucker’s EV suit before he finally lost consciousness. In the minutes it took for the evacuation team to arrive, an eternity seemed to pass.

“Sir,” Anna’s eyes flicked between her commanding officers, “did I understand correctly, you’re married to each other?”

“Yes,” Archer hissed.

Shaking her head, she mumbled, “never would have guessed until this happened. I hope Commander Tucker’s okay.”

“He will be,” the Captain heaved a sigh of relief at the sound of a shuttle pods engines. “Trip taught me to dive. I’ve never experienced it myself, but I think he’s suffering from Nitrogen Narcosis. What I can’t understand is why it happened.”

“Jon,” the call came from the doctor leading the team the moment the airlock cycled. Lt. Commander Wagner’s voice proved a welcome relief.

“Pieter,” Jon finally allowed his emotions to show, moving away from his spouse to let their friend and his team surround the injured man. “I’m glad you’re here.”

It didn’t take long to explain the signs and symptoms. A scan with a medical device agreed with Jonathan Archer’s diagnosis. In the blink of an eye, Trip had been loaded onto an EV gurney and remove to the shuttle pod for transport back to Mars.

“I need to get him into a hyperbaric chamber. He’ll be good as new in a few hours. I’m guessing you’re coming with us?” Noticing the hesitation, Dr Wagner stated, “don’t make me order you on medical grounds, Captain. You want to be there, when your husband opens his eyes and you’ll be the first thing Trip wants to see.”

Nodding, his shoulders slumped, Jon followed, after first putting Lt. Commander Malkovich in charge.

“Trip,” Jon’s soft tone sounded distant and echoed slightly.

“Jon,” Trip tried to speak through parched lips. He could feel the heaviness in the air and knew he wound up in sickbay. Trying to recall why, it just wouldn’t come. The last thing he remembered, they were on day six of the Omega Mission, preparing to leave for the second habitat the next morning.

“I’m here, Babe,” Archer stood at the window, staring into the hyperbaric chamber. His husband on the bed with a nurse at his side. “They have to decompress the nitrogen out of your brain.”

“How the hell did I get narked?” Tucker demanded, his brain finally making sense of the last few days.

“Trip,” Pieter’s voice issued over the speakers, “your suit didn’t allow for pressure regulation, due to the one-piece design. Chern and Jones didn’t have the same issue, their packs being hinged either on the side or at the shoulder. They allowed small amounts of air to escape, if the internal pressure got to high. You’ve been working eight or nine hours a day at the equivalent depth of 80 metres for almost two weeks. Taking your EV apparatus off at night partially negated the effects, but they seem to have been cumulative in your case. The final straw came when your oxygen regulator froze with the decreasing temperature within the suit. You and I both know hypothermia increases the effects of narcosis. What we didn’t discover until the engineers took a look was that the heater never functioned one hundred percent. Jon told me how you constantly felt cold.”

Recalling his diving training, Charles Tucker sighed. “I should have known, especially being so anxious and cold all the damn time.”

“You’ve probably been narked a lot of times, Trip,” Pieter smirked, “but didn’t realise it. Jon and I have been talking about your diving career. You’ve done some remarkably deep dives. I guess you’re a little more acclimatised to narcosis than the average person, able to handle it, that’s why you didn’t pick up the early stages. It’s rare in this day and age but not impossible. Most modern diving suits have a brain chemistry monitor and won’t let you go deeper if the partial pressure of nitrogen passes ten percent above normal. At those levels, being Narked would feel like having enough alcohol to be loose. I’m afraid your levels were dangerously high and without a monitor built into the suit, this was bound to occur with the faulty design. Had it been anyone else, we would have picked up the narcosis much earlier from their behaviour. Your body coped until you finally passed out and we had to put you in the chamber. You’ll be out in a couple of hours and good as new.”

“Yeah, well just like a hangover, I got a raging headache,” Trip complained from his biobed.

Indicating the nurse should administer the mild analgesic and sedative, Dr. Wagner turned to an anxious Archer. “He’ll be fine by the morning. In fact, you won’t even know this occurred.”

“I’ve got to leave Trip in your hands, Pieter,” Jon sighed. “I’m returning to Titan to finish the mission. Tell my husband I’ll be back in seven days.”

“Will do,” Pieter smiled, as he watched the Captain straighten his spine and march out of Starfleet’s Space Medical facility. Shaking his head, he knew Trip would be both disappointed his husband wasn’t on hand when he woke up again and pleased Jon finished the training exercise. “Then Lee and our girls are taking you to Earth for a little party. Nothing like convalescing in sunny Florida with your family surrounding you, until your husband can join you for a well-earned weekend away.”

“Mama, I’m fine,” Trip stated, arms crossed and a determined tone underpinning his words.

Seated on the back porch of his family home, Charles Tucker hadn’t been able to lift a finger for the last two days. Twenty hours after Captain Archer left for Titan, again, Dr. Wagner and his family accompanied the patient to Panama City for a little rest and relaxation. However, Trip would only relax once he could see Jon again. He needed to feel his husband’s arms around him. The one memory from all this, the one that taunted him, the only one Charles Tucker recalled, was his husband saying ‘you die and I’ll be left alone’.

_Never_ , Trip’s mind supplied. _I ain’t ever going to leave you, Jon. I told you once, Tucker’s are real careful about choosing their spouse cause they only marry once. Now you got me, I ain’t letting go._


	37. You're The Reason: March 2147

“Jon,” Trip rushed to the door the moment he heard the buzzer.

He’d been trapped at his family home six days with the coying presence of his mother who acted as though she lost her baby. Alice Tucker decided her business could do without her presence as she lavished attention on her eldest son. Trip’s close call shook up the family more than he’d expected. Even his daddy sat down and the two men spoke for half an hour after dinner every night.

On the on the other hand, Charles Tucker III had been trapped in his family home without his husband loving presence, without even a com while he completed the Omega Mission. The near miss shook the young engineer more than he’d like to admit. Finally, last night, Captain Jonathan Archer managed to requisition an hour on the way back to Orbital and put the time to good use. Jon looked tired, but satisfied as Trip’s eyes drank in every detail.

Flinging the old-fashioned door open, Charles Tucker wrapped his arms around the man standing on the stoop and clung like a limpet. He’d missed Jon so much it physically hurt. Unwilling to let go, a sudden wet patch spread over the front of his shirt, followed by a piteous whimper. Springing back, Trip finally noticed the black, white and tan bundle in Jonathan Archer’s arms.

“Happy Birthday, Babe,” he offered the ball of fur, wet nose quivering and large eyes pleading. The new smells, sights and sounds frightened the six-week-old puppy, making his bladder leak and throat give out a distressing cry. “This is Porthos, the newest addition to our family.”

“You not only got the dog without me, you named him?” Trip glared, while taking the tiny creature with a gentle yet firm hold. At eye level with the animal, Tucker looked into this warm chocolate eyes and his heart melted. “Hey there little guy. Welcome to your new family.” Transferring the pup into the crook of his elbow, Trip allowed the dog to curl up and be securely supported. Porthos rewarded his new owner with a happy yip and lick. “You and me got to have a talk about weeing on your daddy. That’s no way to treat the hand that feeds you. But that’ll have to wait until I berate Jon for picking you out without informing me.”

Fielding the somewhat hostile glare, Jon gave a short bark of laughter. “Seemed like the perfect opportunity when I landed in San Francisco for the mission debrief. Besides, we’d both managed to hear about Porthos through different means, so I guessed he must have been destined for us.”

Keeping his eyes on the pup, Trip asked, “mind telling me why your other daddy called you Porthos?”

“Four males in the litter, Trip,” Jon smirked, slinging an arm around his husband and pulling him close. Needing contact, the events on Titan terrified Archer. Talking to his spouse on the com didn’t come close to the physical need to touch. With Porthos securely in Tucker’s arms, Jon knew he could indulge in his passion. Leaning in, he waited for Trip to understand his intent before locking lips for the first time in almost a month.

“The Four Musketeers,” Jon explained when they came up for air, “Porthos seemed fitting. I made sure I took pictures of all of them together so you’ll see what I mean and why I picked this little one out. The other three climbed all over each other to get to me, but Porthos, he just hung back casually, as if to say, _when you’re done, I’ll get my turn_. I figured, if he has to live on a ship, he needs to have those qualities.”

“I can live with that,” Tucker whispered in return. Blue eyes narrowing, Trip couldn’t hold back the thought that kept going around his brain. “Jon, we’ve got to talk about what happened on Titan. It frightened the hell out of me.”

“Later,” Jon hesitated, pulling his husband back into his embrace, careful to protect the newest member of their family. “It frightened the hell out of me too,” Archer whispered, “but I just need to be near you now, Trip.”

Smirking, he offered, “I don’t think Mama and Daddy will mind if we sneak off to the bedroom and get reacquainted for a while.”

“Let me say hello first,” Jon frowned not really wanting to be polite to his in-laws but knowing it would be the best way to get an uninterrupted hour with his husband. “Then we need to take Porthos out for a quick walk. He’ll be ready to sleep after that. Rebecca said he’ll sleep a lot for the next few weeks, when he’s not playing, eating or pooping. We’re going to have to train him, if I have any chance of taking him to work with me.”

Rolling his eyes, Trip lead them into the kitchen. “Maybe I could put a play area in the corner of my office. I’m in and out all day long.”

“I’ve got a week off,” Jon smirked. “I’m sure we’ll work something out by then.”

“Jon, you ever had a dog before?” Trip asked. When Archer nodded, Tucker specified, “a beagle?”

“No,” Jon stated, “and before you start telling me about your time with Marty, again, Rebecca’s serious about taking him back if we break the rules. Believe me, I got the law laid down, along with an account for his essential equipment that would break Starfleet.”

Snickering as they entered the kitchen, Trip could only imagine. Jon really didn’t know what he’d be in for with this particular breed. Only six weeks old and Porthos’s nose started to quiver the closer they came to the wonderous new smells emanating from the cooking station. Trip’s Mama had the evening meal well underway. Expecting several additions, Jon’s presence meant all his favourites were on the menu. Chuck arrived home from Tucker Technical early, to spend the evening with his family. Lizzy would be flying in from Miami with Jamie and his family for dinner. The O’Shea’s, Pieter’s family and Grandpa were scheduled to arrive in the morning for Trip’s birthday celebration later the same evening. They’d all be returning to Mars on the shuttle Sunday after brunch.

“How old is he,” Alice demanded, scooping the pup from her son’s grasp the moment she noticed the little scrap. Ignoring the pair, the matriarch’s attention focused on the baby. She couldn’t be happier at the sight, knowing her son and his husband were one step closer to giving her grandchildren.

Porthos, however, became more interested in the odour than meeting new people. It smelt divine. Wriggling, both his body and nose, he attempted to get closer. The hands constraining him just wouldn’t let go, so he started to voice his displeasure. When Alice tucked him under her arm with a shush, he turned his big brown eyes on the woman. Neither worked on the mother of four and Grandmother of just as many.

“That will be enough out of you,” she declared, “and don’t think you’ll get anything from me. Now, Jon, I asked you a question.”

“Six weeks,” Jon smirked, happy to miss the usual hug that went along with greeting Mama as it meant he could keep his hands of Trip. “Initially, Rebecca didn’t want to let him go at such a young age. I explained our situation, that the next few months is the only time Trip and I will be able to be with him most of the day. So, she finally agreed. We have to com her every day this week so she can check on his progress and make sure we’re being good dog parents.”

“Oh, you’re just adorable, when you’re not howling like a banshee,” Alice waved the pair away, understanding how much the accident on Titan frightened Trip. From the look on Jon’s face, he’d been just as affected and they needed the time and space to talk. “I’ll let you catch up while…”

“Porthos,” Jon supplied.

“Porthos and I get acquainted,” Alice gave Jon a quick hug before demanding, “go on, get out of here.”

“He needs to go out,” Jon hesitated, somewhat disgruntled at losing his baby so soon after stepping in the door. “He’s not toilet trained yet.”

“I brought up four children, Jonathan, and more animals than I care to count,” Alice allowed her expressive eyes to speak louder than her words. “I’m sure we can work it out. Now, did you get a dog bed, collar, lead, food?”

“Rebecca arranged all of that,” Archer sighed. “It should be arriving in the next couple of hours. Along with a crate to transport Porthos back to Mars and plenty of chew toys. I suggest you don’t put your fingers anywhere near his mouth. Those puppy teeth are sharp and he likes to chew.”

“Dinner’s at six,” the matriarch stated over her shoulder, “don’t be late. Now, Porthos, lets introduce you to the rest of the family before you need a nap. Hopefully your dinner will arrive before you wake up because human food is not good for puppies.”

Trying to hide in his mirth, Trip’s blue eyes twinkled. Holding out his hand, he waited for Jon to place his palm and link their fingers. When he did, Tucker tightened his grip and the expression in his eyes changed, becoming smoky with desire.

“What are you staring at,” Jon grumbled, his attention flicking back to the retreating backside of his mother-in-law. “You stink like dog pee.”

“Then you can take a shower with me and wash it off,” Trip responded. “And Jon, I’m in charge.”

“Aye, Sir,” the Captain saluted theatrically, understanding how much his husband missed him with is playful banter and need to be dominant in their intimacy. “Remember, we only have until six.”

The million-watt smile Trip gave him meant they’d be using every moment of that time and none of it talking.

“We got to talk about Titan, Jon,” Trip declared, giving his husband a look that sated he took this topic very seriously.

Porthos had been freed from his travel crate, feed and taken out to do his doggy business before the pair settled down on the couch in their living room. Home all of half an hour and the words exploded out of Tucker’s mouth. Somehow, there just didn’t seem to be the time or privacy at his parents’ house.

_Or at least_ , Trip mind added, _not enough for more than the physical reconnection we needed to make up for the fact one of us almost died on that mission, and it could happen again in the future._

“I know what you’re going to say from that look on your face, ‘it’s what we signed up for’, and you’re right. I’m not talking about me almost dying, although that’s the end product of what needs to be discussed as well,” sighing heavily, Trip watched Jon’s face change expression with each new idea. “I’m talking about all this new equipment. If an EV pack with a shoddy heater can get past the Chief Engineer of _Enterprise_ , how in hells name are we going to survive out there.”

Archer turned to face his spouse, a thoughtful façade invading his features. “I don’t know, Trip and that the honest truth. We’ve got enough stacked against us without inconsequential little things like this occurring after leaving Earth’s sphere of influence. That’s part of the reason we tested those suit modifications on Titan, that every piece of equipment has to be put through its paces a hundred times before we start exploring. We can’t afford for something like this to happen if we’re mapping a new planet.”

“I guess I’ll have to become an expert on every piece of equipment that’s stored on board _Enterprise_ ,” Trip shook his head with a heavy heart. “You know, I signed on because of the warp engine, not every little relay and fuse that could blow and bring down the entire system.”

“As the Captain,” Jon finally understood the scope of his duties, “I’ll have to become familiar with every one of those systems on board as well. We always knew this was big, I guess we’re finally learning that lesson.”

“Along with whatever new regulations and protocols the Vulcan’s enforce on us,” Trip grimaced. “It’s no wonder Yamamoto chose the senior officers years ago. He’s schooling us, Jonny, making sure we’re prepared for whatever awaits us out there. Titan’s just a taste of what’s to come. You think the Admiralty know something we don’t?”

Snorting, Jon shook his head, “you mean the pointy ears actually told Yamamoto what Humanity faces in its quest to explore the galaxy. You’re dreaming, Trip. We both know the Vulcan’s are trying to hold us back, only they’re being subtler about it.”

Sitting back, Archer pulled his husband into his side. Placing an arm around his shoulders, Jon looked at their exhausted pup, asleep in his bed. It felt good to be home, or what constituted their home for the moment. They might face a known future, but that didn’t make it any less dangerous. Much like the topic Jonathan Archer found himself contemplating.

“Tell me about your relationship with Natalie?”

Cheeks turning pink, Trip’s tone held a mixture of embarrassment and supressed humour. “I’m not sure you could call it a relationship, Old Man.”

“Friends with benefits?” Jon continued, forcing the subject.

“Not so sure about the friends either,” Trip tucked his head into his spouses’ shoulder. “But lots of benefits for a few weeks. You know, when I first saw her,” pausing, Tucker wasn’t sure he should confess but Jon made that noise the back of his throat encouraging Trip to open up. His husband listened with an open mind, reassuring Trip could tell the truth, no matter how much Archer might dislike what he’d say. “Natalie, standing there, I wondered what it would be like to be with a woman again.”

“You’re still attracted to her?” Jon asked, careful to keep his tone neutral and jealousy concealed.

“As if I didn’t see your reaction,” Trip mocked. “Hell, Jonny, she’s even more of a package now than at MIT, with a price tag to match. Nothing in my vows said I can’t window shop and appreciate nice things. I’ve been with you six years, married more than half that, even if I never intended to get hitched so young. I told you, Tucker’s marry for life. It’s just….”

“Seven-year itch,” Jon prompted when the pause became elongated.

“Na,” Trip nestled further into his spouse, “sex with you, with a man, it’s different. You’re all hard muscle, a different shape, hairy and a hell of a lot stronger. You can pin me down. I’m not saying I don’t enjoy the physical side of our relationship…”

“Really,” Jon teased. Although he could keep up with his younger husband, Trip’s sensuality and stamina sometimes tested Archer’s endurance.

Poking his spouse in the ribs, Trip continued, thoughtfully. “When I saw Natalie, it all just came flooding back. The softness, the pliability, the smoothness, and the encounters with women that meant nothing but an hour’s pleasure. I never felt anything resembling love until I met you. Honestly, I never thought I’d end up where I am, not that I regret a minute of it.”

“Is that your roundabout way of saying you love me?” Jon asked, a serious note in this tone.

“Hell, Jon, I tell you all the time,” Trip declared, leaning in for a quick kiss to prove his point, “and show you enough. I thought you would have gotten the memo by now, Old Man.”

“I love you too, Trip,” Jon returned the favour by laying his lips on the top of his husband’s head. “You know, your dad told me, the night of your twenty first birthday party, you’d end up with me.”

Snickering, Trip shook his head. “Mama said something to me once, made me think. I’m sure they thought I’d turn out gay, especially when Tommy Schmitz started hanging around. That kid was so sweet on me. Took all summer to let him down gentle.” Signing, Tucker pulled away and finally looked Jonathan Archer in the eye. “I guess Mama’s right in the end.”

“Trip,” Jon’s tone turned sombre.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Trip interrupted. “My parents love me, no matter that I’m married to a man. What I’m trying to say, I thought so too, Jon. But after seeing Natalie…”

Jon couldn’t help himself. As much as he tried to keep his mirth contained, it simply refused to be locked away. “You look at women like that all the time, Trip. In fact, so often, I’m not sure you even realise you’re doing it. And, what’s more, they respond to your sparkling personality and warp output smile. I never bothered to step in before, but,” suddenly turning grave, “I never thought I had to. Natalie, she’s the first person, man or woman, I felt could take you attention.”

Standing, Trip began to pace. “She did,” he confessed, “for a moment. I didn’t like the feeling. You tell me, Jon, how in hell’s name can I still be attracted to women?”

“Because,” swallowing the mirth, Archer finally understood the root of this issue, “you’re not gay, Trip, you are bisexual. You have a male life partner, but your attracted to both men and women. I though you knew that?”

Flopping down on the couch once again, Trip gave his husband an evil glare. “You don’t have to laugh at me. I know you think I’m naïve.”

“I’d say too trusting for your own good,” Jon chuckled, pulling Tucker closer. “Inexperienced with relationships even if you’ve had more sexual partners than me. Guileless, candid and transparent as glass. Those qualities,” Archer gripped Trip’s chin, forcing their eyes to meet, “are just some of the things I love about you, Babe. I hope you don’t change.”

“What we experience out there,” Trip stated, “it’s going to change us, Jonny. This mission on Titan, it’s only the start. Things are going to go wrong. We’re going to face situations we’ve never imagined. It frightens the hell out of me in some respects, but I’m eager to just get on with meeting new people, going new places, seeing new sights and learning what’s beyond our little sphere.”

“As long as we have each other,” Archer stated in a determined tone, “we’ll get through whatever the universe has to throw at us.”

“I’m going to have to hear you say that,” Trip once again curled himself up at his husbands’ side, “often when were out there.”

_Why_ , Jon considered, wrapping his soul mate in his warm embrace _, do I get the feeling you might be right. That the one person on my ship who’ll cause most of the issues will be my Chief Engineer. You have a propensity to attract trouble without trying, Trip. I just hope you and my heart survive the next few years. We’ll face the adventures on Enterprise together, whatever they might be._

“You are so cleaning that up,” Trip stated, holding his nose and carefully avoiding the pile of steaming doggie poop.

“I took him out before we went to bed,” Jon stated unhappily, “and I showed him were the litter box is, again. I even put him in it until he went after putting fresh soil in, and gave him a cheese reward.”

“Well, you got all day while I’m at work,” Trip stated, pulling a jumpsuit from the cupboard and heading for the shower, “to reiterate that lesson. I recall telling you, Beagles are hard to train, Old Man. Oh, and the neighbour said he howled the entire time we went running yesterday. We might have to take Porthos with us next time.”

“You know both he and I hate that carrying contraption,” Archer retorted.

“He’s old enough to run,” Trip called from the shower, “at least some of the way. Puppies need exercise, and lots of it. Besides, with his white tail, you can’t lose him on Mars.”

Seven-week-old Porthos attempted to jump up on the bed. Whining when he was unsuccessful, Jon shushed the pup. Picking him up, the dog curled into Trip’s place with a sigh and a quiver of his nose.

“You got that dog in the bed again, Jon,” Trip’s tone sounded displeased as the water started. “We talked about that. Dog’s need to know who’s the master by sleeping lower than humans.”

“Lucky for you,” Jon leant over and scooped the pup into his arms for a quick cuddle, hiding him from Tucker’s eagle eyes, “your Trip daddy has to go to work today. He doesn’t need to know. I guess we’d better get up and cook breakfast so he doesn’t find out.”

Porthos started to shake at the word. He knew breakfast already. A wet nose pushed into Jon’s hand while puppy eyes begged for his first meal of the day.

“Jon,” Trip appeared serious over breakfast, “we really need to get this Porthos situation sorted out. He’s running this house. That pup whines and you’re putty in his paws. It’s got to stop. Besides, what are you going to do when you go back to work on Monday? A dog that age can’t be left alone for hours on end.”

In answer, Jon made a face Trip knew too well.

Sighing, he asked, “when you shipping out?”

“Next Wednesday,” Archer stated. “The _Yarahla_.”

“That’s a Vulcan vessel,” Trip stopped scooping his eggs off the plate with the last of his toast. “Just when were you planning on telling me?”

“Admiral Leonard called while you were in the shower,” his tone turned decidedly Captain. “I’m telling you now, Commander.”

“Don’t,” Trip warned, pointing his fork at him, “don’t you dare go all formal on me, Old Man. We ain’t at work now. You’re my husband for the next few minutes, not commanding officer.”

“Three-month mission,” Jon eyed Tucker speculatively. “They want me to help set up a graviton telescope and map a dark matter nebula. I might even get to experience their EV suits.”

“Just make damn sure you get a look at their engines,” Trip stood. Bending down, he patted Porthos on the head. “I want details, Capt’n, and lots of them. I want to know how fast their engines can go.”

“Do you ever think of anything else,” Jon groused.

Coming around the table, Trip placed a palm on either side of Jon’s head. Pulling up gently, so his husband could see the smoky desire in his eyes, “occasionally. But, thinking about the technology in that warp core, gets me hot all over. I might just have to expand a quick burst of energy before heading out to work.”

“Porthos, stay,” Jon almost whimpered before Trip’s mouth descended.

A quarter of an hour later, Archer waved his spouse good bye. Shaking his head, he looked down at the puppy attempting to chase his own tail. “If only I could get Trip to do that,” Jon smirked, sated and satisfied. He knew the amount of intimacy in their relationship would come close to killing him before he shipped out and again when he returned. That thought alone belayed the little conversation they had about Natalie. Trip might be attracted to other men and women, but he’d never touch one, even if they offered. It just wasn’t in his nature.

“It might take the edge of you other daddy’s libido while I’m away, if he has something else to think about,” Jon spoke to the beagle now secured under his arm. “We got nine days, Porthos, to get him into shape. I hope you can teach him some responsibility on the domestic front. Trip’s not known for his housekeeping skills. You know, it’s not him I worry about.”

Walking into the kitchen, Jon huffed before glaring at the puppy and depositing him on the ground. Their plates had been dragged onto the floor and licked clean. Eyeing the very food orientated baby squirming to get away from the punishment he’d receive, Archer shook his head. “Maybe I’m worrying about nothing and you and Trip will get along just fine.”


	38. Trials: June to December 2147

“Three years,” Trip boasted, watching his soon to be commanding officer and husband with a smile that could power a warp engine. “July 2150. At least that my estimate.”

Hand reverently going over the virtual blue prints on the screen, Jonathan Archer couldn’t help his emotions erupting on his mobile features. He thought seeing Trip after three months would be the pinnacle of today. It seemed his spouse planed more than one surprise.

“Three,” Archer stated in disbelief, turning to ensure Commander Tucker wasn’t joking. “You’re the engineer, Trip. I’ll take you word for it.”

“Admiral Rafael Douglas is proposing two, but I just can’t see us making that dead line with all the Vulcan stalling going on in the background,” Trip responded, still holding onto his mirth. “And, she’s going to be built at Utopia. The gantry’s already underway. It’ll take nine months, more or less. Then we can start on _Enterprise_.”

“How did this get past the media?” Jon demanded, drawing closer and studying the deck by deck plans.

“Well, now,” Trip hesitated, “that’s been part of the strategy from the start. Each section’s been designed in isolation so no one knows how far along we are with this project. Most of the works been done on Mars at Utopia, some at the Complex and a few special projects around the solar system. My team has the rest of this year to pull it all together, make sure the systems work separately but simultaneously in the prototypes.”

“We’re going to need the Armory officer’s position filled ASAP,” Jon commented, returning his hand to the schematic while lovingly tracing the fuselage’s outline, “not to mention communications. You remember Hoshi Sato.”

“She’d just a kid,” Trip responded, shocked.

“Not since she turned eighteen. Besides having the best ear for languages I’ve ever heard,” Jon responded with a grin, “I want a specialist with her background going over these plans, just to make sure we haven’t forgotten anything. By the time we need Hoshi on _Enterprise_ , she’ll be fully fledged Starfleet officer.”

“Those phase cannons are completely new,” Trip pointed out, “as is the polarised hull plating. Between that and the deflector, it’s the only thing stopping _Enterprise_ ending up in a million tiny fragments when she hits warp 4. I’m not sure even the warp 5 engine will put out enough power to compensate for the drain of firing the cannons. Let’s hope all the new species we discover out there are friendly as the Vulcan’s.”

Sighing, Jon finally gave his attention to his husband. Eyebrows creasing toward his nose, he asked, “when is this being revealed?”

“We been waiting for you to come back from your mission,” Trip’s grin only got wider. “Don’t you dare tell Admiral Douglas I showed you this, and you got to act surprised in two weeks when he does the big reveal announcing _Enterprise’s_ official Captain.”

Shaking his head, Jon wondered why Trip asked to meet him at orbital instead of waiting at home on Mars. Both in uniform, they’d shared a handshake and long, meaningful gaze, before boarding the shuttle to the Presidio. Tucker became jumpy on the ride to HQ, where Captain Archer officially ended his three-month stint with the Vulcan Space Command. It hadn’t taken Trip long to guide Archer to this room and reveal his surprise. While Jon appreciated the heads up, all he wanted to do was get his spouse alone and out of that damn uniform. In fact, he couldn’t believe just how casual Trip played the last hour. Usually they younger man couldn’t wait to reconnect physically, stealing a kiss or feeling Archer up whenever the opportunity presented itself, even while on duty. Tucker’s odd behaviour indicated something occurred in the last three months and he either didn’t want or didn’t know how to broch the subject with his husband.

“Two weeks,” Jon enquired, wondering what they’d be doing during that time.

“We got two weeks’ vacation,” Trip stated with one of his grins that lit up the room, not relieving Jon’s suspicions in the least. It seemed slightly forced which only put the Captain more on guard. “Admiral Forest want’s us both rested before plans for _Enterprise_ are made public and the Commanding Officer is named on system wide live feed media. So, I booked a week in a villa near one of Maui’s most famous dive sites. Porthos loves the sand…”

“Where is my dog?” Archer demanded, finally noticing the crate missing.

“Our dog is in our new apartment,” Trip stated with a sigh, while fielding a somewhat hostile expression from his spouse. “You’re no fun, Old Man.”

“You’re stalling, Babe,” Jon returned, his tone turning cooler. “What aren’t you telling me, Trip?”

“You think this is the only surprise I had install?” Trip hedged. “Come on, lets catch a transport and I’ll explain on the way.”

Huffing, Jon wondered just how much Trip kept from him over the last three months. He found out as they lined up for the flitters to Russian Hill, not the shuttle to Mars or Hawaii. Jon eyed the apartment building as the transport landed on the roof top pad. They weren’t in the same structure but the same general location as their last sojourn in San Francisco. As a Captain, Archer had the option of larger quarters on the top floors. Trip took advantage of the fact and managed a two-bedroom with a separate office area, facing the Presidio and Goldengate bridge. Every window had a view of the water, blues replaced red, salt circulated on the warm almost summer breeze and lazy white clouds floated overhead. Yet, none of this explained his husband’s sudden and unexpected distance.

Porthos greeted him happily enough, but the pup obviously didn’t recall his ‘other’ owner as he jumped into Trip’s outstretched arms. Archer made a mental note to alter that during their week away. Their dog cradled in Tucker’s embrace like a shield told Jon something was very wrong.

“What the hell’s going on, Trip,” Jon demanded, turning to see Tucker standing half way across the room. Something felt very off. “What are you hiding from me?”

Rolling his eyes, as if his husband were completely obtuse, Tucker stated, “who do you think is heading up the prototype trials, Jon? Unless you want Forest to recall Robinson to replace you so you can continue acting while other Captain’s get leave. I’m telling you now, I’m not working with that sonofabitch, so you can count me out as Chief Engineer of _Enterprise_ if he gets the assignment.”

That’s when it finally hit him. Captain Jonathan Archer, son of Henry Archer, would finally fulfil his father’s dream. The warp 5 engine, thanks to Trip, had become a reality. They were about to start trials in the NX Lambda and Kappa, just as Admiral Yamamoto stated before the Omega training mission. This apartment would become home for the next six months, as they put the various systems through their paces in the prototype vessels.

“What about our apartment on Mars?” Jon asked, not for one-minute buying Tucker’s stalling tactics. Something else played in the background. He’d let Trip get away with it for the moment, but the time would soon come when his spouse couldn’t hide any longer.

“I’ve packed everything up,” Trip’s blue eyes didn’t meet Jon’s.

“Commander,” Jon’s voice took on that tone of authority.

“I sublet it to Nikki Veracruz. She’s the granddaughter of my father’s eldest sister,” Trip confessed. “Nikki’s just been through a nasty break up from her partner of three years.”

“I though Tucker’s married for life,” Jon couldn’t help teasing.

“She never married the guy, thankfully,” Tucker finally smiled.

“Don’t tell me,” pausing, Jon scrutinised his husband’s expression, before recalling the relation, “engineer?”

“Starfleet Engineer,” Trip stated proudly. “Just starting at Utopia. Although the housing situation for Lieutenant’s is better than it used to be, this works for both of us. We get out apartment back when we return to Mars at the end of the NX trials.”

Beginning to stalk his spouse, Jon approached slowly and deliberately. “How do you figure that?”

Swallowing, Trip took a step backwards, “Jon, there is a reason we have to spend a week in Hawaii,” he indicated with a wave of his hand. Archer took a look around, still closing in on his quarry.

“Put Porthos down. I’m sure he can find something to keep him active for the next half hour,” Archer ordered.

“There aren’t any sheets on the bed,” Trip muttered, more than a little turned on by the dominance and determination he noted in his husband’s eyes.

“Wall’s fine by me,” Jon teased, “especially after three months. Hell, Babe, I though you would have been jumping my bones. I could mention the second bang being the door closing.” Suddenly stopping, Archer gave Tucker a searching look. “Is there something I should know?” Not happy with the lack of response, Jon demanded, “Trip?”

“I, that is, well,” Trip’s body language spoke a thousand words. Watching as his husband understood, Jon turned his back. “It’s not what you’re thinking, Jon.”

Pivoting, Archer’s eyes narrowed, spearing his spouse with a furious glare. “What am I thinking Trip? Or is it your guilty conscious seeing things?”

“I went out with Natalie,” he confessed, dropping onto the couch. Shoulders slumping, the man appeared miserable. “I’m such a fool.”

A thousand scenarios went through Jonathan Archer’s mind. He’d left, completely convinced the woman had no power over Trip. Yet, his husband had guilty written all over his expressive face. Still, Jon’s training in diplomacy forced him to sequester his emotions and look at this situation rationally. Natalie wanted Trip, more so after she discovered he’d married, more particularly a male. Tucker became a challenge to the woman. Trip had been attracted to her. Until this moment, Jonathan Archer never thought Charles Tucker capable of cheating.

Swallowing the bile threatening the back of his throat, Jon asked in what he hoped could be considered a constrained tone, “tell me what happened?”

Looking up, shock registered on Trip’s face, as if he might have a chance to explain. Nodding, he pulled Porthos in closer, holding the dog like an emotional shield. “I’d been called to HQ for a debrief on the failure of my EV suit the day after you left for the _Yarahla_. I gave my report and thought that would be the end of it, that one of the other designs would be chosen for further testing. Well, Natalie wasn’t happy with that, and suggested to Admiral Forest that I remain Earth-side in case she required more detailed information. She called me back later that evening, asking to meet me.”

“Just you and her?” Jon asked, starting to get an idea of the playing field and how the woman stacked it.

“That’s not the impression she gave me,” Trip sighed. “I’m a fool, Jon, I fell for the oldest trick in the book. I met her at the restaurant for a working dinner, but the only thing she was interested in working on was getting into my pants. I tried to let her down gentle, tell her about you, about our relationship and how much it means to me. Natalie just smirked and asked how I managed while you were away. I swear, when she tried to kiss me…”

“Kiss,” Jon demanded, no longer able to keep his temper or jealousy under control.

“I got up, payed the bill and walked out,” Trip’s tone sounded desolate. “I thought that would be the end of it. The next morning, Admiral Forest hauls me into his office and dresses me down for walking out on the meeting. Asked me if I knew how this looked, refusing to discuss my experience, how it’s going to put the emergency equipment development back weeks when we’re already on a tight scheduled. Honestly, the shock glued my tongue to the roof of my mouth. I was so angry with her for playing me like that, and for falling for it. By the time I finally found the words to tell him the truth, he’d stormed out of the room. That’s when Natalie cornered me, in his office…”

“Trip, that’s sexual harassment,” Jon sighed, his hand automatically going to his neck.

“I think my resignation to Admiral Yamamoto…”

“What,” Jon exploded. “Trip, you did what? Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“What could you have done, Jon,” Trip pleaded. “In the end it wouldn’t have achieved anything, except taking your mind off your assignment. We promised not to do that to each other. While in uniform, we’re Starfleet Officers. It’s the way it has to be, especially once we’re on _Enterprise_.”

“I could have listened,” Jon offered with a sigh, knowing Trip hit the nail on the head. He couldn’t have done anything.

“That wasn’t the end of it,” Trip looked and sounded miserable. “I was ordered to meet with Natalie again. She came on all heavy, in Forest’s office, so I just walked out after pushing her away. I sent my resignation right then and there, went back to the temporary quarter’s Starfleet assigned me, packed up my kit and Porthos and went home to Mars,” Trip explained.

“Did you go and see Lee?” Jon asked, astounded Tucker had kept this to himself. They comm’d each other every second day, yet Archer didn’t have a clue what his spouse endured. “Talk it though? Get some counselling?”

“That’s the only reason I’m telling you now,” Trip bit out, standing and starting to pace while one hand nervously went through his hair, the other holding Porthos. “Lee convinced me you wouldn’t see it as breaking our vows and your trust. You do, don’t you, Jon. You’re not going to leave me over this.”

“You were going to bury everything that happened,” Jon sighed, understanding it was just like his husband to blow off the entire event, burry it and never mention it. Those kinds of secrets had the bad habit of coming back to bite you at the most inconvenient times. “Come here, you.”

Opening his arms, Jon waited for Trip to understand, accept and move toward him. When he finally fell into the outstretched embrace, the tears fell. As did the words, pleading to understand, not to leave.

“I’m guessing,” Archer found a soft smile tinged with regret, “Yamamoto didn’t accept your resignation, as you greeted me in your uniform.”

“Came to Mars personally to find out why,” Trip confessed. “Next thing I know, Lee showed up and the Admiral ordered me to get it sorted. Natalie got a warning and won’t be on the _Enterprise_ project, although her teams retained the contract with Starfleet.”

“Did you bring our diving gear?” Jon asked, understanding the quicker they got out of their uniforms and into civilian clothing, the sooner he could convince his husband this wasn’t an issue Trip thought.

“Sent it ahead,” Tucker stated, before looking up and pleading, “make love to me, Jon.”

Holding his husband away, hands on Trip’s shoulders, Jonathan Archer promised, “not here, Babe, not like this. I hope that villa’s secluded, because I’m going take my time, to make you come over and over again, screaming my name.”

“Jon,” Trip dumped Porthos onto the couch. The pup whined before curling up and watching the two men embrace. “I’m going to keep you to that, Old Man. I love you.”

Returning to their Starfleet apartment a week later, Trip dumped their bags and diving equipment in the only space available. Hair sun bleached, an all over body tan from hours of lazing in each other’s arm on the warm sand, the pair looked over the creates stacked on their living room floor. Obviously, the personal items Trip packed up from their Martian home arrived during the vacation they treated as a second honeymoon.

“So much for the second week away from work,” Jon quipped, looking around and wondering where all this came from. “Have we really collected this much stuff?”

“Nope,” Trip shook his head, “some of it came out of storage. I thought we could go through it and decide what we need to keep before taking quarters on _Enterprise_. Come on, let’s get started with sheets on the bed. We can go out for dinner tonight and stop on the way home to pick up some groceries. The rest can wait until tomorrow.”

Smiling, Jon watched his husband negotiate his way through the mess. Porthos, let loose from his travel create, started to sniff. Cocking his leg, Jon shouted “No.”

“I’m taking Porthos up to the dog run,” he offered, capturing the pup before he managed to do the deed.

Snorting, Trip’s head came around the master bedroom door. “Didn’t you see him scenting everything at the Villa? He doesn’t need to pee, Jon, he’s marking his territory.”

“How do I get him to stop,” Archer rolled his eyes.

“How the hell do I know,” Trip stated, disappearing once again. A shout indicated he’d found the box with sheets. “Come and help me make the bed. Then we can find the box with Porthos’s things. Maybe if we lay out his bed and litter box, he’ll feel more comfortable.”

Shaking his head, Jonathan Archer wondered how many other changes three months on a Vulcan ship brought to his domestic situation. It seemed his pup had grown and been trained, as had his husband sense of household responsibility. Despite Jon’s prediction of impending doom, Trip took the beagle to puppy classes after his shots. It seemed, for his breed, Porthos excelled with only a few bad habits due to his laid-back attitude and the fact Commander Tucker took the animal to work, socialising him with humans at an early age. The entire engineering department at Utopia doted on the beagle. Trip turned out to be quite the disciplinarian, not letting the dog get away with much. In many respects, he treated Porthos as he would a member of his staff, and puppy obviously loved his Trip daddy for it.

“Coming,” Jon called.

“You will be,” Trip responded, “when we finished this bed and I locate the supplies.”

Grumbling while looking down at the squirming beagle, Jon announced, “not before I set up Porthos’s things. Which create are they in?”

“Just get the travel bed and box out of our luggage,” Trip replied, “then get your arse in here, Old Man. I got plans for it and you.”

They didn’t need all week to unpack and straighten out their temporary apartment. Most of the items put in storage two and a half years earlier went to recycling, which meant the pair had time to rediscover San Francisco. At five months, Porthos ran beside them on the seaside paths, only losing his way occasionally thanks to an alluring smell. Trip carried a backpack with a water bowl, treats and bed when he accompanied his daddies out. It seemed the dog understood sit and stay but any passing scent proved harder to ignore. It caused Jon and Trip more than one embarrassing moment when he slipped his collar and lead. It earnt Porthos a harness, which he learnt to tolerate.

The media circus accompanying the launch of the NX warp 5 prototypes lasted nearly a week. Jon and Trip were photographed and interviewed relentlessly on every media outlet with the announcement of their positions. Much to Commander Tucker’s surprise, he’d been named First Officer as well as Chief Engineer.

“Admiral,” he’d appealed to both Forest and Yamamoto at the first opportunity, “I’m going to have my hands full taking care of that engine, let alone adding the duties of the Frist Officer. Besides,” he’d kept his ace until the last moment, “I haven’t been to command school.”

“About that,” Neoga looked at Forest, “you start Monday. Good luck, Commander. I’ll be reviewing your report card personally.”

“As if I don’t have enough on my plate,” Trip muttered under his breath.

Jon stood silently at his spouses’ side and said nothing.

Days turned into weeks. The first flight made it to Jupiter and back in under five minutes, reaching warp 4.8. Tucker cursed, knowing they could do better, especially if he’d been able to spend more time at the complex and less at command school. Captain A.G. Robinson started a betting pool, most of the money on when the team would get the NX Kappa to warp 5. Not surprisingly, Jon won and cries of insider trading abounded as he piloted the vessel. However, the illegal wagers would never be acknowledged by anyone higher ranked than a Captain, even though both Forest and Yamamoto placed flutters under their subordinates’ names. Neither were happy when they didn’t win.

Strangely, the Vulcan’s remained mostly silent, even a little distant throughout this period. The Consulate on Earth watched the trials, insisting on an observer for every NX launch. Jon and Trip discussed the reasons privately but hadn’t been able to come up with answers. However, both felt something brewing.

December came around just as the trials concluded. As Trip and Jon packed up their apartment on Earth for the last time, they chose to spend Christmas and New Years in Panama City with the Tuckers. Grandpa Chuck finally tired of Mars and decided to remain on Earth, at least for a little while. The O’Shea’s arrived with Pieter, Lee and their girls the night before Christmas. It seemed Samuel Tucker and Soon Ye Wagner-Lee couldn’t be separated so the entire family had become adopted by Charlie and Alice.

“I wonder what ’48 will bring?” Rory asked, looking around the crowed room with a beer in his hand. Trip and his female relatives gyrated on the dance floor to an upbeat number. Pieter, Lee and Jon made up the rest of the party hiding in the dark, quiet corner.

“I’ll be happy with another year like the last few months,” Jon smirked happily. He’d drunk enough to be lightly anesthetised but not completely numb. His husband, on the other hand, passed numb some time ago.

“What’s going on with you and Trip?” Rory demanded. A quick glance at Lee, followed by a nod, indicated Dr. O’Shea should continue his interrogation. “It’s like you’re reverted back to the first year together. Neither one of you can keep your hands to yourself.”

Glad of the low light, Archer felt his cheeks heating. The whole Natalie debacle brought them closer together in a way nothing else could. They’d spent hours talking about the effect she and the Titan mission wrought on their relationship and vowed never to let anything come between them again.

“First time we’ve actually been in the same location for an entire six months,” Jon finally answered.

“What about Boston?” Pieter smirked, elbowing his friend.

“I heard,” Lee join in the teasing, “you were a house husband after your marriage. Something about being suspended for stealing one of the NX prototypes.”

Groaning, Jon shook his head. “I completed my masters,” he defended.

“Face it, Captain,” Rory joined in the bantering, “nothing gets past this family. We’re just glad to see the pair of you happy. I just hope it lasts. All this media attention, might go to some people’s heads.”

“Enough about me,” Jon attempted to move the conversation to another topic. He didn’t have a chance in hell and he knew it. When Pieter and Lee got in this mood, there were like Porthos begging for a piece of cheese.

“You’re not getting away without telling us your secret,” Pieter laughed. “It must have been that three months away after nearly loosing Trip.”

“What you talking about,” Tucker slipped up behind his husband, sliding his arms around Jon’s waist and resting his head on a shoulder. His left hand moved lower suggestively.

Before Trip could embarrass them both, Jon caught the marauding limb as it worked its way to cupping his groin. Lacing their fingers, he’d have to thank his spouse for his impeccable timing later. “I think it’s time I took someone home.”

“It’s not even midnight,” Trip stated, nibbling on his husband’s ear, “and our song is about to start. Come on, let’s dance.”

With a monumental sigh, Jon acquiesced, allowing Tucker to pull him onto the floor. The strains of a soft ballad commenced with the words, From This Moment. Pieter and Lee watched on, sharing a significant glance. They understood the reason behind the closeness.

“Spill,” Rory demanded.

“Let’s just say,” Lee said, determined not to break patient trust, “some women, even in this day and age, have a hard time taking no for an answer.”

“Especially when a bisexual man is attractive but married to another man,” Pieter added.

Rory watched the facial expression on his friends, understanding more than he’d like. “Not just bisexual men. I’ve had one or two see a married father of four as a challenge. Vicky’s always getting chatted up, especially when she has kids with her. I suspect,” Dr. O’Shea commented professionally, “they see something they want, the life they covert, and don’t care who they hurt while trying to get it.”

Shaking his head, Lee added, “by breaking up a marriage or family, they are more likely to suffer the same fate. At least our relationships are strong and honest enough to survive such trials.”


	39. Porthos: January to June 2148

_Last night was a doozy of a party_ , Trip thought on waking.

Just after midnight, Jon decided he’d had enough socialising and managed to convince his husband that delights awaited them in their room. Unable to resist, Tucker followed his spouse like a lamb to the slaughter, more than happy he would be adequately compensated for leaving so early. It didn’t quite happen that way. Both men, full of joy after seeing out a somewhat trying year and with the amount of alcohol in their system, the combination proved rather overpowering. They fell into bed, naked with eyelids refusing to remain open any longer.

Trip stirred first. The early morning sun streaming through the window. Even in the middle of winter, Florida’s radiant energy stung uncovered flesh, intensified by the pane. Curled up next to his partner, a particular part of Archer’s anatomy started growing, meaning Jon would wake soon. The morning glory looked promising and Tucker’s burgeoning erection reacted to the sight, especially as they hadn’t managed the deed last night.

_This is a good omen for ’48_ , his somewhat foggy, hungover brain insisted while his face erupted into a suggestive leer.

Watching the sight with several fiendish ideas circulating in Trip’s mind, happy the blankets proved too hot, Tucker’s hand moved to Jon’s chest. Gently curling the hairs in his fingers to help him wake up, the digits slowly approached a nipple. They didn’t need to be at the family breakfast in the lobby until eleven. That left the couple at least two hours to greet the new year in the best manner possible.

Concentrating on his lover, Trip didn’t hear Porthos stir or jump onto the bed. He’d been left alone for hours on end last night with only a chew toy. When his pack finally arrived home, to this new place with odd smells, they ignored him in favour of each other, even though they’d spent the entire evening together. This morning, although he’d been whimpering quietly and his stomach rumbled, they still didn’t bother to feed him. He’d been a good boy and used the box for all his needs. To top it off, his water bowl needed refilling, he couldn’t sniff out a treat and Trip daddy made sure he couldn’t climb on the furniture to explore other options. When the dog pounced with a playful growl, Tucker realised Porthos intention and didn’t have time to stop the pup. Taking hold of the growing sausage his Jon daddy provided for his enjoyment, Archer came awake suddenly.

Howling in pain, Jon flexed into a sitting position, before curling into a ball on his side, clutching his privates, while accidently knocking the beagle to the floor. Porthos, not understanding what he’d done wrong, retreated to his bed in a huff, giving both his daddy’s a reproachful look. Trip daddy never let him have treats unless they were deserved but Jon daddy, he’d become a pushover for a pair of sad eyes. Just what did he think he was doing, teasing a poor hungry dog like that!

Trip, even with an alcohol induced fuzzy brain didn’t hesitate. Grabbing the com beside his bed, he called Pieter. The medic answered immediately in a somewhat disgruntled and sleepy tone.

“This better be good, Trip,” he stated reproachfully, “because my sister and mother have the girls this morning, meaning my husband and I can finally manage a sleep in, together.”

“Pieter, we need a house call,” Trip’s hand petted Jon’s back as the man continued to whimper, “and bring a pain hypo. I’ll explain when you get here. Oh, Wanger, promise you won’t laugh!”

Confused, Lee listened in on the conversation. One eye raised with the last sentence, he knew whatever occurred, he wanted in. “This will be good,” he offered, “I’ll get the bag, you get dressed.”

Nodding, Dr. Wagner pulled on a top and pants. Checking his emergency kit, Pieter noticed his spouse getting dressed. They finished at the same time, sharing a glance and deciding not to speculate on Jon and Trip’s situation until they arrived. It took all of three seconds to understand Captain Archer issue and hide their amusement. Quickly pressing a mild analgesic into Jon’s carotid artery, he could finally unfurl from his foetal position and lose the look of agony on his face.

“That looks like…” Pieter started, glancing at Porthos.

“Let just say,” Trip answered, trying to stop a grin, “Porthos thought he was getting sausage for breakfast.”

Attempting to hide his mirth, the psychiatrist reached into his husband’s kit and extracted a vile of anti-inflammatory. Quickly administering a dose, Lee just could help himself. “I gather he beat you to it, Trip.”

Jon’s baleful glare narrowed on his friend before ordering in a slightly high-pitched voice, “if that’s all, gentlemen, your dismissed.”

“Oh, no, Captain,” Lee smirked, “you can’t get rid of me that easily. I’m a civilian. Besides, my husband outranks you in medical matters.”

Shaking his head, Pieter ordered the other two out of the room to save the remainder of Captain Archer’s dignity. Trip, reluctant to leave, only did so when Dr. Wagner stated he needed to examine his patient completely. “Take Porthos with you, Commander. I shouldn’t be that long.” After they retreated, Pieter sighed. “You’re going to be sore for a few days, Jon. I need to give you an antibiotic after I seal the wound, just in case. I’m afraid Porthos made contact and grazed the skin, breaking it in two places.”

Archer didn’t say a word, although he knew any intimacy between himself and Trip would be severely limited by this little accident. The look he gave the doctor indicated his displeasure. With all the medications on board, Jon felt better, but decided his husband might just be right. Porthos needed to learn to stay on the floor until invited onto the bed. A lesson Jon learnt the hard way.

Patting his patient on the should when he’d completed his examination and knew he couldn’t do any more, Pieter sighed. “You know, with kids and animals in a household, the chaos never ends. Just why we are going for number three, I don’t know. Lee must have caught me at a weak moment.”

“Three,” Jon gasped.

Shrugging, Pieter offered, “Lee’s clucky and want’s a son. I think it is part of the Chinese heritage. Honestly, if were going through dippers, teething and all the other stages again, we may as well make it two. Mireya and Soon Ye are only a year apart. We may as well make the boys the same.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jon stated rather sarcastically, “how do you know you won’t end up with four daughters’?”

Chuckling, Pieter responded, “I couldn’t care less, and neither does Lee, really. Fayton’s agreed, now her relationship has fallen apart. Never did like the guy she’s moved in with. Apparently, there are ways and means of getting boys. You ought to see the regime my sister has planned for my husband. It’s one of the reasons were up early. Apparently, sperm has to be collected at the right time.”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Jon reached down and pulled the blanket over his head, trying to get the image out of his mind.

Taking the hint, Dr. Wagner packed his bag. “See your regular doctor for a check-up in a week, unless the swelling and pain get worse. Now your back on Mars, dinner at our house last Friday of the month.”

“I still catch up with my water polo buddies last Saturday,” Jon announced, folding back the sheet. “Make it first Friday and you have a deal.

“Finally,” Trip stated a month later. Brushing his teeth, he watched Jon in the shower of their en-suit bathroom via the reflection in the mirror.

“What?” Archer asked, flicking off the water.

Getting rid of the paste in his mouth, Trip washed and replaced the brush in its holder. “I feel like I’m home. Not only are we living together, but in our apartment, one we chose together.”

“We’ve been living together for seven years,” Jon stated while drying himself. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he came up behind his husband and folded Trip into a warm embrace. “We lived in Boston for almost a year after our marriage, in a place we chose together. What’s so different on this occasion?”

“I know, but,” hesitating, Trip shook his head, unable to find the right words.

“You trying to tell me you’ve never been happier,” Jon guessed, placing a kiss just below Tucker’s left ear. “You’re building Enterprise’s engines from scratch, watching every component of the interior and exterior being put together like a giant 3D puzzle, you have the dog you wanted and finally, our careers mean we sleep in the same bed every night. I know it’s not a house, but I think it’s close enough, especially as we’ll be constrained to about 10 square metres on _Enterpris_ e.”

“Love you,” Trip sighed, turning and placing his hands around Jon’s neck.

“I love you too, Trip. More every day,” Jon responded, watching those baby blues turn from happiness to desire. “I just got clean after you attacked me last night,” he warned, sensing Tucker preparing to kiss the living daylight out of him. “You’re going to kill me if you keep this schedule up.”

That’s when they heard the crash. Swearing, Trip rushed out of the bathroom in his bright blue Starfleet underwear to find a chair upturned in the kitchen. One hand on his hip, the other pointed at Porthos, he didn’t need to say a word. Their scent-oriented beagle jumped down from the kitchen counter with a sorrowful expression.

“Don’t think that look is going to save you,” Trip stated, picking up the seat and pushing it into the table. “I’ve told you, you’re not to move the furniture, Porthos, especially to climb on the counters. Besides, I installed a biosensor on the stasis unit that doesn’t recognise dogs. You can’t eat the meat for our BBQ at Pieter’s house tonight. You only think you’re hungry.”

Jon tried to hold in his mirth. He didn’t know what he found funnier. Trip’s stance while telling the dog off, or Porthos’s posture of contrition as he rolled over to show his well-rounded and very full belly. The laugh finally erupted, only to find the Captain facing down a very angry lover.

“Don’t,” Trip growled out the word, “don’t you dare laugh at him. That’s the third time this week. He stole a lunch out of the stasis unit at work on Tuesday. We’ve installed the same bio sensors in the Engineering department because of Porthos, and reinforced his cage.”

Understanding he wouldn’t be out of his Trip daddy’s bad books for some time, Porthos slunk off to his bed in the living room, giving his Jon daddy a mournful look on the way. He didn’t like the way Archer’s face hardened. It seemed his sorrowful brown eyes weren’t working as well as they use to. Then again, Porthos comprehended Trip daddy usually controlled situations like this. His dominant posture indicated his anger and alpha status.

“Do you know, I caught him climbing the balcony last week.” Trip didn’t need to tell Jon how dangerous a fall could be, even in Martian gravity. The apartments were stacked on top of each other in a pyramidal shape with sloped walls. The dividing ramparts wide and gentle enough for a beagle to climb all the way to the leisure area on the rooftop. “Stevie from number six always leaves food on the terrace. I’m sure it’s to tease Porthos. He can smell it, that’s why he’s taken to going out on the balcony.”

Shaking his head, Jon once again tried to keep his mirth contained. “Oh, come on, Trip. If half the newest Starfleet officers had Porthos’s problem solving skills…”

“Laugh all you want,” Trip sounded both deadly and serious peeved, “but when you come home to a lifeless dog, don’t blame me. I’ve had a quite word with Stevie and the building manager about leaving food out. I’m sure it won’t happen again cause I threatened to turn our balcony into a conservatory to keep that damn dog safe if it does.”

“I’ll get breakfast started,” Jon offered contritely, hoping to defuse Trip’s anger, “while you finish getting dressed. I guess I can take him into work with me today. He can’t get into much trouble with a bunch of administrative types.”

“Mind placing a bet on that,” Trip stated. “Porthos needs to learn to be cooped up all day if he’s going to live on a Starship, Jon. He can stay in his escape proof pen in my office. Besides, it might induce his other daddy to come visit for lunch. We can take him for a walk by the fountain in the officer’s courtyard.”

Pushing Trip out of the small kitchen area, Jon gave him time and space to cool down. Picking up a PAD, Archer looked at his schedule and quickly added ‘lunch with Trip’, sending an invite to his husband so he wouldn’t get carried away with whatever part of the engine he tinkered with. _Two birds, one stone_ , Jon smiled to himself, before getting out the ingredients for scrambled eggs. Smelling breakfast, Porthos snuck back into the kitchen. Sitting at Jon’s feet, Archer sighed. The beagles nose twitched continuously as he put the coffee pot in the machine.

“Not today, boy, unless you want your other dad mad at me too,” Jon offered. “Besides, I think the punishment actually fits the crime this time, and I noticed you’d finished the breakfast Trip put down for you before he went for a shower. Now, I need to go and get dressed for work. I’m afraid you’ve made you bed, so you’ll just have to lay in it today.”

Sighing, Porthos seemed to understand. Flopping down, he put his head on his paws after glancing at the chair speculatively and deciding that was a very bad idea. Besides, he didn’t like raw eggs. Cooked, that was a very different matter. Sighing once again, he waited for Jon and Trip to come back and start scrambling. Looking up with a sorrowful brown gaze didn’t help, nor would it with continued irritation he sensed. Trip daddy always kept his promises, good or bad. It looked like his day would consist of being suck in the escape proof cage while people with new and exciting smells rushed all about, not stopping to notice one small and lonely beagle.

_This day just got better_ , Porthos couldn’t wait to be released from his carry crate ten hours later. First, his daddies took him for a long walk to break up the monotony of his day. Then Jon managed to sneak several bites from his lunch without Trip noticing. Finally, they didn’t go home at the usual time. Instead, they headed for a transport station that smelt different. Recalling the last visit to this location, Porthos knew it meant kids to play with at the other end of the long flight. Wiggling with excitement, both his daddies hushed him several times, not happy with his enthusiastic baying.

_What’s a dog to do_ , he wondered, _they seem to forget I’m only just a year old, the same age as cousin Callum and he doesn’t get in trouble being excited._

“That,” Vicky shook her head as Porthos happily chased six children between the age of two and six around Pieter and Lee’s back yard half an hour later, “is one happy dog.”

“That,” Trip stated, “is one mischievous little devil masquerading as a beagle, aided and abetted by my husband. Just wait until Lee and Jon put on the steaks. They’ll be falling over Porthos, who’ll camp at their feet. I swear, he can sniff food at a hundred metres.”

Pieter and Fayton wandered over, handing Trip and Vicky a glass of wine when they joined them. They’d only caught the end of the conversation as Maeve fell and Porthos climbed over the two-year-old. Squeals of delight only a toddler could produce had all the adults wincing. Trip gave his friend a look, asking why his sister visited, ignoring the fact his niece let his dog clean any trace of food from her hands and face.

“We’re pregnant,” Pieter announced, smiling at his sibling and throwing an arm around her shoulders, “again. Twins this time, so Lee’s going to have his work cut out for him.”

Groaning, Vicky responded sarcastically, “I guess I’m going to lose my psychiatrist to parental leave in, what, seven months.”

“About that,” Fayton agreed. “I can promise you this will be the last time I get pregnant for these two. Next kid out of this womb will be mine.”

Not bothering to hide a slightly embarrassed grin, Pieter changed the subject easily. “You and Rory though any more about my offer?”

“What offer?” Trip demanded, feeling he’d been left out of the loop. He had an idea about the pregnancy and Fayton’s presence kind of gave away the surprise.

“Starfleet Medical wants to recruit my husband,” Vicky stated, giving Pieter the evil eye. “His previous military experience is just what Dr. Wagner’s looking for to start up a new division here at Gale Crater, with Rory heading up facility. Unfortunately, that will leave the clinic understaffed. General practitioners are just falling out of the sky around here, so it won’t be hard to replace my husband!” she finished sarcastically.

“Dr. Lee Soon Shao has agreed to contract one day a week to Starfleet,” Pieter cringed tactfully, “if I get this project up and running.”

“So,” Vicky’s expression darkened. Trip hadn’t seen her this angry since she moved to Ireland before meeting Rory. “You’re going to leave me without most of my staff. I thought we had a friendship, Pieter!”

“Wouldn’t incorporating or buying out the clinic,” Fayton interrupted, hoping to keep the peace, “be a better compromise. You could have a civilian arm for the general population. As I understand it, Gale Crater is mostly non-Starfleet personal, spouses and their families. It makes sense to combine your resources in this situation.”

“Fayton, like all my sisters, is a doctor,” Pieter suggested, holding up his hands when Vicky glared for not informing her sooner.

“I’m a general practitioner,” Fayton smiled, “with an interest in paediatrics and not doing anything for the next few months. I’d be happy to locum.”

“We have family friendly hours,” Vicky offered the other woman with a hopeful tone in her voice. “If you decide to stay after the Twins are delivered, especially if you brother relieves me of my current staff.”

Laughing, Fayton shook her head. “We’ll talk about long term options another time. I’m happy to fill in any gaps. Maybe we can discuss it on Monday.”

Rolling her eyes, Vicky left well enough alone.

“I’m not sure they know what they’ve got themselves into,” Fayton pointed to the children, still chasing Porthos as a way to change the topic once again.

“Four kids, it’s chaos,” Vicky agreed. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen and check the rest of the food. Lee and Jon will have to start cooking soon, or we’ll have tantrums when little tummies start to rumble.”

Rolling his eyes, Pieter beat Trip to the punch line as the women walked away, calling for Jon and Lee. “Don’t say it, Commander. When it’s your sister and husband, you can comment all you want.”

“Although Rory and Vicky offered,” Trip stated, “Jon and I decided we’re not going down that path. Any kids have to be a combination of both of us!”

“Even if it means you never expand your family?” Pieter asked, somewhat astonished. He’s seen both men with his girls and their nieces and nephews. While Jon had to work at it, Trip had natural parenting instincts.

“I have a feeling something will turn up, somewhere on our journey,” Trip smirked. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”

The monthly barbeques and water polo get togethers proved the only social interaction Jon and Trip could afford after _Enterprise_ started to take shape. So far, the Vulcan’s hadn’t put up more than a token resistance, barely slowing the breakneck speed of _Enterprise’s_ construction. The Captain and Commander felt the tension rising as everyone on the project waited for the other boot to fall. It came in the form of a summons to Starfleet HQ the last week in June.


	40. Tribulations: June 2148

“Captain,” Admiral Max Forest stood and held out a hand over his desk in a formal greeting.

Captain Jonathan Archer acknowledged his long-time mentor with an engaging smile and affable, “Admiral”. Max’s body language meant this meeting had to appear professional even if the feeling between the two men wasn’t. Maintaining his casual posture, Archer let Forest dictate the terms.

Indicating the chair on the other side of his desk, Forest offered in a mocking tone, “I’m glad you could tear yourself away from _Enterprise_.”

“Not an easy task, I assure you,” Jon responded, this voice filled with humour.

“At this rate, you’ll need to select your senior and bridge officers shortly,” the Admiral advised. “I have some suggestions.”

“I’m always open to recommendations from you, Sir,” Archer nodded respectfully, wondering if this could be the reason for his sudden and unexpected interview.

“I’ll have my aid send the files to you. How is your ship coming along?” Max asked. He’d been briefed, and would continue to be kept up to date on _Enterprise’s_ assembly, so the question seemed superfluous, as had the rest of the conversation. “Last time I contacted Utopia Planitia, I spoke with a Lt. Hess. Seems Commander Tucker’s too busy to answer a comm from an Admiral.”

“You might just be right about that, Sir. Some nights, I’m not sure he even goes home. I have to reserve an hour each week get Commander Tucker to take the Captain on an external inspection,” Jon stated, his grin wide and delight shining through his hazel gaze. “The construction teams about half way though the external hull of the saucer section, not that they’ll let me in. Trip tells me the warp engine is being built at Utopia, with the nacelles to be constructed at the complex and transferred to Mars when the time comes to place them on the fuselage. They’ll be fitted in space mid next year, all going to plan. You should come to Mars and have a look for yourself.”

“Before it’s finished,” Forest shook his head sadly. “I’d rather the Captain give me a personal tour of the completed project.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Admiral,” Jon’s smile widened and orbs sparkled, admitting how much he enjoyed the banter, and speaking about his ship. “If I can tear my Frist Officer away from his engines long enough for the excursion.”

“Speaking of your Frist Officer, did Commander Tucker accompany you?” The older man asked suggestively, his expression giving the impression this wasn’t an idle question. The fact Max used Trip’s formal title, again, sent a chill down the Captain’s spine. Something, most defiantly, didn’t add up and he needed to play along.

“From Mars, yes,” Jon answered carefully. “My Chief Engineer needed to meet with Dr. Sying and several other civilian consultants on this project. I’ll be joining them in Boston for dinner later tonight to discuss the specifics. As to the rest of the weekend, I thought I’d take the opportunity to catch up with some old college buddies.”

Admiral Forest didn’t quite know how to start this conversation and it showed on his expressive features. “Belay those plans, and any others you have for the weekend, Captain,” Max ordered, his gaze catching Jon’s with a meaningful expression. It said trouble clouded the horizon. “I need you and Commander Tucker contactable.”

Captain Archer looked at his long-time mentor and understood. Whatever Max really wanted to say, couldn’t be said in his office. It meant others would be listening. As if on que, the door chimed and the Admiral’s aide announced Admiral Leonard with a delegation from the Vulcan Consulate. Dressed in formal robes, this meeting had been engineered with Forest’s knowledge, but that didn’t mean Max had to like it, or the subjects that would be prescribed by their overlords.

“And the circus begins,” Forest exhaled the words very quietly, but aimed then at his protegee.

Allowing his eyebrows to crease, Jon started to get an idea of the issues. His glance back stated, _I thought they’d been too quiet recently. Looks like trouble ahead_.

“Ambassador Soval,” Max came around his desk, halting next to Archer. He introduced the Vulcan, who simply bowed his head, ever so slightly in acknowledgement. The aged individual couldn’t be mistaken as anything but the head of this delegation. In fact, Soval was the highest ranked Vulcan on Earth. His mere presence indicated the level of opposition to the _Enterprise_ project just shot into the stratosphere.

“We’ve met,” Jon offered in a terse tone, recalling the times Soval came calling on his father at the Complex. Examining the others in the party, Archer recognised Tos and Laval from pervious encounters. The former seemed to be Soval new right-hand man, the latter losing favour because he allowed Trip to finish his PhD on time and get the warp 2 engine complete well before they wished. However, the woman he’d never seen before.

“Indeed,” Soval agreed, always using minimal words to get his point across. It seemed Soval didn’t like Jonathan Archer any more than _Enterprise’s_ captain liked the Ambassador.

Understanding Vulcan’s preferred to stand, Admiral Forest didn’t offer a seat, or refreshments. He hoped they’d say their piece and leave, not that Soval indicated the subject matter causing this meeting, or his demand to speak with Captain Archer. Giving the floor over to the interlopers, the Admiral hoped his silence would start the conversation Soval planned.

_More lik_ e, Max’s inner voice stated, _tell us what we’re doing wrong._

“I understood,” Laval’s tone hinted at impatience as the silence became heavy, “Commander Tucker would attend this meeting.”

“My Chief Engineer has a previous engagement,” Jon offered, as politely as possible and only stating the facts. _Take a leaf out of their book, Jon, and shut your mouth. In this case, the lest said, the soonest meandered and I can get on with what I came here to do!_

“With whom?” Laval demanded, his tone slightly up rising on the final word.

Letting one side of his lips curl into a smirk, Jonathan Archer understood they’d won this round. That minuscule inflection meant Trip’s attendance had been expected, most probably demanded but that message hadn’t been passed on to Archer. That Tucker didn’t appear, elicited the slightest of responses form the Vulcans. Commander Tucker, then, seemed to be the reason for this impromptu meeting, which gave Jon a clue as to the motive for the encounter.

“I believe,” Archer became as diffuse as possible with his answer, “the civilian scientists and engineers working on _Enterprise’s_ engines. He is, after all, the Chief Engineer.”

“We wish to discuss the new magnetic constrictors,” Soval glared, or at least as much as a Vulcan could, at his subordinate, “with your Chief Engineer.” One again, that inflection on the last words, giving insight into Soval’s disapproval.

Turning that half smirk into a full smile, Archer wondered when this topic would become a bone of contention. Trip managed to find a way to individually allow mater and anti-mater streams into the reactor chamber before mixing and get ten percent more energy from the warp core in the process. The efficiency rating of their engine improved drastically, meaning less anti-mater had to be manufactured and decreased Earth’s reliance on Rhenium. Also, the quality of the crystal no longer mattered quite so much. Thus, the sub-standard dilithum the Vulcan’s allowed Starfleet proved adequate for _Enterprise’s_ requirements to reach warp 5, with a cruising speed somewhere between 4 and 4.5. Trip theorised that his father’s engine might reach warp 6.3 or 6.4, if they could get their hands on pure, flawless dilithum, but that seemed about as likely as throwing off their Vulcan overlords.

In terms of revolutionising space travel, Commander Charles Tucker managed to give _Enterprise_ enough extra power to run all the systems, including the protein re-sequencer, the new gravity plating and deflector, as well as the proposed phase cannons and ability to polarise the hull as a sort of defence shield. From his research, Archer realised the Vulcan’s believed those issues wouldn’t be solved anytime soon, thus putting the trials off for years and extending their control over Humanities first steps into the stars. Just how they’d found out, Archer wanted to know. The information had been kept confidential, with only a handful of people involved in the development and testing understanding the technological breakthroughs.

“I’m sorry,” Jon schooled his features, maintaining a mask of neutrality, “but that information is classified.”

Glaring at Archer, before turning his steely gaze on Forest, Soval simply stared. Aware of the game being played, the Captain and both Admirals bore the silence with a questioning gaze of their own. The atmosphere in the office became heavier and heavier as the seconds ticked into minutes. Still, the Starfleet officers refused to cave to Vulcan pressure.

“Ambassador Laval has been following Commander Tucker’s work,” Soval suggested, well aware of the technique forcing him to take control of the conversation. It seemed Admiral Leonard, Admiral Forest and Captain Archer learnt that lesson and the method would no longer work. His estimation of the officers increased, marginally, although the Ambassador would never admit to it.

“Trip’s ware of the interest Laval has shown in his work over the last ten years,” Jon stated, trying to keep the resentment from his tone. _It’s one of the many reason’s my husband wanted to move to Mars, out from under your intrusive, watchful presence. It seems removing Admiral Green to Vulcan and relocating most of Tucker’s research to Mars hasn’t achieved its aim, but delayed it. Now, we have to hunt out the mole supplying the information to our overlords._

Raising an eyebrow, Tos suggested, “Ambassador Laval will join Commander Tucker. Vulcan insight…”

“Is not required for this project,” Max cut in smoothly. “I think humanities research on warp field theory has deviated sufficiently from Zefram Cochrane and Henry Archer’s initial model, that outside involvement is no longer required. I understood, during the three months Captain Archer spent on _Yarahla,_ it was made abundantly clear certain areas of the ship were off limits for much the same reason.”

_In other words_ , Jon thought, holding on to his humour at the not so subtle putdown, _we each have our secrets and intend to keep it that way. If you want the technology, you’re going to have to cough up something in return. Humanity is tired of doing all the giving, it’s time we received something in return._

“Perhaps, in the spirit of co-operation,” the young female Vulcan stepped forward, entering the conversation, almost as if she’d read Archer’s mind, “a Vulcan Science Officer might assist _Enterprises_ crew with the Vulcan spatial data base once the ship has been launched. I understand Captain Archer has not yet filled this position.”

“Indeed,” Soval turned to look at the most junior of his party, a contemplative near expression on his face. A slight nod of his head and the deal seemed to be done.

“Now just wait a minute,” Jon started, only to have his elbow touched lightly by Admiral Forest. The expression in Max’s eye said don’t do anything rash, at least not until they could discuss this proposition. As the immediate rush of adrenalin subsided, Archer understood the caution. The Vulcan’s had just offered their star charts, and an expert to read them, for the price of a Vulcan on his senior team.

“You will oversee this task,” Laval quickly washed his hands of the deal. Although his monotone didn’t explicitly sound infuriated, he’d easily appointed the most junior member of their retinue, which indicated the emotion.

The woman, Archer had forgotten her name already simply, stared at Jon, before sating, “I look forward to working with you, when the time comes, Captain.”

“Trip’s not going to like this,” Jon muttered under his breath as the Vulcan’s bowed their heads and moved out of the office.

“Isn’t it better,” Leonard sighed, watching Forest and Archer, “to know your enemy before getting her on board than trying to find out who they’ve brought once _Enterprise_ is launched. Right now, we need to find the leak in our system. This is nothing more than Yamamoto expected.”

“Get me everything you can on this woman,” Jon ordered, his tone just one shade light of insubordinate as he faced down two Admirals. “I want to know everything about my new Science Officer before I let her anywhere near the bridge.”

“T’Pol,” Leonard smiled, but it wasn’t a happy expression, “her name is T’Pol, Captain. She might be young by Vulcan standards, but well qualified.”

“Aren’t they all,” Jon groused.

“We,” Forest took back the conversation, “have bigger issues. Thankfully the Vulcan’s value personal privacy. Although your marriage to Trip is on record, they haven’t bothered to use that, yet. I know Soval’s still lobbying for Gardiner to get _Enterprise_ even though you’ve been publicly named, Jon, and Gardiner has gone on record saying he want’s Earth-side posting. The one thing we all agree on, Commander Tucker has the Chief Engineer, but for very different reasons.”

“Only because they want him out of the way,” Jon stated forlornly. “If Trip’s busy on the first warp 5 starship, he can’t be in R and D, making the kind of improvements that will have us matching the speed of Vulcan vessels within the next few years.”

“There is a rumour, something about Lt. Tucker telling Soval and his entourage it wouldn’t take us one hundred years to crack warp 2,” Daniel Leonard smirked. “I wish I’d been there.”

“I think your husband has proved that theory wrong,” Max’s eyes danced with supressed humour.

“2063 to 2143, eighty years,” Jon agreed. “And we changed from Cochranes thermonuclear powered engine to antimatter and dilithum, redesigning the core in the process.”

Shaking his head, Forest recalled Henry Archer’s excitement when the Complex opened. A very small deposit of crude, naturally occurring dilithum had been discovered in South America. It changed the direction of Earth’s trajectory into the stars and increased Vulcan involvement. It seemed the method of super heating plasma to form a warp bubble really didn’t matter, but the heat of the plasma through the nacelles did. The more excited the state of matter, the larger the warp bubble, and therefore speed. Forest wondered what would have occurred to their space program, if the only deposit of dilithum on Earth had never been uncovered.

“They really have no idea about Commander Tucker’s value to Starfleet,” Admiral Forest shook his head and sighed.

“What,” Archer pulled the conversation back to a topic he wanted to discuss, watching the reactions of the Admiral, “is the issue with my marriage to Trip? Why would the Vulcan’s protest?”

Leonard cleared his throat. “From what little we’ve been able to glean, Vulcan’s do not have an issue sending one spouse on an extended mission, so long as they are not apart more than seven years.”

“They live two or three hundred years,” Jon spluttered. “No wonder they don’t see a five-year mission as an issue. That would be the same as my three-month posting to _Yarahla_ for them.”

“Truthfully,” Max sighed, “we’re not really sure it will be a problem. From what little we know of Vulcan marriages, they are all heterosexual.”

“They’re so bloody emotionless,” Jon exploded, “who knows how they choose a spouse. It certainly isn’t based on love.”

That’s when Jon got it. The reason Admiral Forest and Leonard frowned. He and Trip were emotionally invested in one another. As far as Starfleet were concerned, they’d survived their baptism by fire, firstly on _Al Biruni_ and then on _Sputnik_. _But that probably won’t be enough proof for the Vulcan’s,_ Archer realised.

“Come on, Jon,” Max sighed, understanding the younger man understood their fears, “we have a shuttle to catch. Com your husband and have him meet us in Florida. We have a dinner engagement with Tucker Technical.”

“I’ll collect Admiral Yamamoto and meet you there,” Leonard suggested, slinking away before Jon could protest.

Theatrically banging his head against the nearest wall, Jon commented, “next you’re going to tell me Jamie and his subsidiaries have struck a vein of quality dilithiam. That’s the only reason I can see the Fleet Admiral attending this little dinner party.”

“Why do I need to tell you,” Max managed to keep his laugher contained, “when you already know the punch line. You know, Trip and James are more alike than they care to admit.”

“It’s taken me eight years,” Jon stated sourly, “but I finally got that memo.”

“It’s a very small pocket,” James Tucker reiterated for the third time, his green eyes boring into his brother. “Although the crystals are pure and flawless, it won’t be more than a metric tonne. We’ve gone over the other asteroids in Saturn’s rings and have started surveying Jupiter and Uranus. So far, nothing. It seems to be a chance find.”

“That’s more than enough for what I have planned,” Trip returned, his ire rising. “I need the entire supply, Jamie. Not for _Enterprise_ , but to prove our current engines capable of reaching warp 6. It’ll revolutionise space travel.”

“There are a lot of industries out there,” James returned heatedly, “that would like to get their hands on this. The energy potential could revolutionise more that space travel, Trip. It could revolutionise commerce within the solar system. I’m not making any promises, apart from the fact you’ll get something and the Vulcan’s will get nothing. Hell,” the swear slipped out of the man usually so in control of himself, “apart from the individual that located the deposit on a survey mission, who, incidentally, has no idea what she found, and the people in this room, no one has been informed. Tucker Technical is keeping this confidential.”

Seven sets of eyes flicked to the audio-acoustic demining device in the middle of the table.

“How are we going to mine it?” Trip demanded. “Surely, if you’ve found this deposit, there must be more somewhere in our solar system we can drag the asteroid to the nearest processing plant and work out how to get the dilithum out.”

“Trip,” Charlie stood, indicating both his sons should take a seat. “Those are very good questions that don’t have answers at the moment. The truth is we have no understanding of how or why dilithum is created, where it is found in nature or under what circumstances the deposits form into crystals. Which means, we only have the records of the find in South America years ago. They lost half the dilithum to the extraction process. We are not going to be that inefficient. It will take time to work out a process, extract the crystal and have them ready for use. Our best guess, other cultures hand mine for extraction. We don’t even know the dangers.”

“There’s a lot the Vulcan’s aren’t telling us,” Forest agreed. “For instance, we can assume the Vulcan’s have utilised all the Rhenium in their system, relying on the shipments from Pluto to create their fuel. We know their ships are capable of warp 7, utilising dilithum and a matter/antimatter intermix but don’t know where they source their crystal. We understand they’ve charted thousands of cubic kilometres but aren’t willing to tell us what’s out there.”

“So,” Archer, who’d sat quietly, taking in the conversation, summarised, “the Vulcan’s aren’t as advanced as they’d like us to think. They’ve basically held humanity back in order to get the Rhenium to make the fuel for their warp engines. When we start to diverge on their theme, they want our technology to further their own. One question I’d like answered,” capturing everyone attention, Jon felt his face freeze in a mask of dislike, “how many other cultures have they exploited for the same reasons?”

Not one of the of the seven men around the table could answer the question. The few cultures the Boomer’s met in their trading ventures, either didn’t bother with the Vulcan’s or seemed to be wary of them. Feeling the last word remained with him, Neoga Yamamoto stated sadly, “I believe we will find out when _Enterprise_ launches. Until then, we must do the best we can with the resources at hand. I will have to appease our masters and am afraid Commander Tucker will be the one to bear the brunt of Soval’s displeasure when I refuse to hand over this new engine upgrade.”

“Now, why did I see that coming,” Trip quipped. “I don’t care how much trouble extracting that dilithum causes, Jamie. I want the first crystals as payment for keeping those pointy eared devils off your back.”

“You think you can do that, Trip?” Jon asked, a little astonished but more worried.

“Hell, yes,” Tucker grinned.


	41. Happiness and Sorrow: June 2148 to April 2925

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter skips over a lot of time, almost two years. It’s a bit of a filler and also ties up some lose ends. We are getting closer to the launch of Enterprise and also the end of this massive work.

As much as Captain Archer and Commander Tucker attempted to keep _Enterprise’s_ construction on schedule, one issue after another cropped up during the remainder of 2148. The Vulcan’s began to question every system, sub-system and even some of the components, taking a very hand’s on approach at every level after the aborted meeting in Admiral Forest’s office. They wished to see working demonstrations, have the theories tested again and again before approving the schematics, let alone allowing the improvements to be incorporated into the construction.

Fleet Admiral Yamamoto played their game, keeping them away from Trip’s modifications at the cost of completing the exterior hull. Quietly, in the background, Commander Tucker and his team continued to integrate the latest technological breakthroughs into _Enterprise’s_ warp core assembly and the nacelles. The deflector and hull plating had already been positioned on the exoskeleton, meaning the Vulcan’s were too late to halt that process. They could, however, take a cautious approach in the testing phase.

“Another year,” Trip didn’t sound happy, “and another Tucker family Christmas and New Year’s party.”

“You’ll be more upset,” Jon returned, spooning his husband as they waited until ten to get up, “when we’re out there and you can’t come home for the yearly celebrations. It will happen sooner than we think.”

“I know,” Trip pulled Archer’s arms tighter around him. “Porthos, up.”

“Now, I know you’re taking this hard,” Jon’s tone soothed, as the beagle lifted his head from the crook behind Archer’s knees, “if you’re allowing Porthos on the bed.”

“You let sleep him with us again,” Trip rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Jon, are you ever going to learn. Last year I had to call Pieter to help and we didn’t have sex for almost three weeks.”

“Porthos, off,” Jon commanded, knowing just how he’d spent the next hour and keep his husbands mouth occupied.

The dog understood immediately. When Jon Daddy reached into the beside draw, Porthos removed himself in a hurry. The noise and movement would start soon, along with that musky smell indicating his daddies change of mood, for the better.

“I got something that will take your mind off work,” Jon suggested in a low voice, “but still let us make brunch with your family by eleven.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense,” Trip grinned, turning onto his back and glaring up at Jon, “and give me that bottle. I got some ideas of my own. I think we’re both going to like the start to his year.”

Trip and his team went to work on the internal fit out with the saucer section at the end of March 2159 when the external construction had finally been completed to the Vulcan’s standards. They were already ten weeks behind schedule and the main reactor still sat in a hangar at Utopia Planitia, awaiting testing before being incorporated into _Enterprise’s_ hull. The remainder of the ship couldn’t be put together until the semitrailer sized warp core took its place on the floor of the engineering bay.

“I’m telling you, Jon,” Trip stated, seated on the toilet, watching his husband brush his teeth before bed. It had been another frustrating few months with little headway. “The core and nacelles are ready, have been since July. We’ve sealed off the conduits for the second stage plasma accelerator so we can get atmosphere into the saucer section and work without EV suits on the internal decking. All that’s holding us up is the Vulcan’s. They want that science officer to be involved with the interior fit out and I ain’t having it. She’s not an engineer. Besides, I don’t want her spying on the little adjustments my teams made since the last round of schematics were drawn up. Believe me, there have been plenty.”

Carefully and deliberately placing his toothbrush in the holder, Jon turned. A pair of loose sleep pants riding dangerously low on his hips, he stated, “does it look like you’re getting an argument out of me?”

“No,” Trip realised his eyes were at the perfect height to notice Jon’s developing erection. Flicking his blue gaze up to his husband’s face, he licked his lips slowly. “Don’t think that pose is going to end this discussion or distract me. I mean it, Old Man.”

“Pity,” Jon responded, leaning forward and placing one hand on either side of Trip’s head. His gaze capturing his spouse, their lips were just about touching. “I can think of better things to be doing with that mouth than complaining about something we can’t change. I agree, this T’Pol can come on board the day _Enterprise_ is ready to leave space doc. I declined the offer of help last thing before I left the office.”

A dangerous smirk crept over Trip’s face. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me, before I started bellyaching about it?”

“That,” Jon inched closer, “would have spoilt my fun.”

Before Trip found the time to answer, his husband made contact. By the time they found the bed, Porthos sighed in jubilation from his mat on the floor. He’d been ready to sleep when his daddies went into the bathroom. Usually, their bed time routine never changed. Although, sometimes, once they got to bed and started making those noises, he knew not to jump up and join them. Porthos felt safe enough to curl into the crook of Jon Daddy’s legs when he invited. Trip Daddy couldn’t see him there and order him off the bed. It looked like tonight, although an hour later than usual, the rest of his pack were finally settling down to sleep.

Quietly steeling onto the bed, Jon Daddy gave him an affectionate pat behind the ears, just where he liked it most. Porthos could hear Trip’s gentle, even breathing and knew it would be safe to stay. Getting comfortable, he licked the hand before it could be withdrawn. Strangely, it wasn’t and Jon Daddy didn’t sleep. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, his beta human always seemed troubled.

“You know, Porthos,” Archer whispered, “sometimes I wish I had your life. It might be boring, but at least you don’t have to cope with the Vulcan’s and their never-ending demands. They’ve finally left Trip and his team alone. Now, they’ve started on me. Not only do they want T’Pol as my science officer, but they’re telling me she technically out rank’s Trip. I gather they think she should be my XO as well. Maybe they’ve finally realised we’re married and want a level of command between us. As if I’d allow my personal relationship with my husband get in the way. They only need to examine the reports from Lt. Tango and Lt. Commander Malkovich while we were on the Omega Training Mission to understand I had to be ordered away from the exercise to accompany Trip’s, and I returned to complete the assignment as soon as possible. Trip and I both know the drill, but I’ll be damned if I allow that Vulcan to become my First Officer!”

Porthos couldn’t agree more. He’d met one of those Vulcan’s a few months back and didn’t like the smell of them. He’d growled, only to be told off by Trip Daddy. Since that day, Porthos hadn’t been allowed to go to work. Sitting in an escape proof cage proved better than being left in the apartment by himself. Especially after getting so bored he ended up chewing a pair of Trip Daddy’s favourite leather shoes out of spite. He never did that again when his alpha ignored him all weekend and barked at Jon daddy about that ‘dog’, but Porthos never went to work again, either. At least Hess and a few of the other engineers stopped by to pet him and offer little snacks to break up a boring day. Tomorrow, he’d see if Jon Daddy would take him to work. Surely there couldn’t be any Vulcan’s there and it might make him feel better.

The next morning, one determined Beagle refused to sit when told too when Trip and Jon attempted to get out the door without Porthos. It proved more than a little difficult. Tucker wondered what had gotten into the little dog, while Jon shook his head. Porthos started baying, when his Jon Daddy wasn’t getting the idea. Locating his lead, Porthos pulled it down from the hook beside the front door. Sitting between his human pack and the exit, he offered the tether in the hope one of them might understand. Humans could be very stupid at times.

“I think someone wants to go to work with you Trip,” Jon laughed.

“I got Vulcan’s coming out of my ears, and will have until at least the end of the year,” Tucker stated. “Porthos tried to mark Laval last time he got out of his cage. You can imagine how well that went down.”

“I wish I’d been there,” Jon smirked, his eyes alight with humour.

“One of my new ensign’s a sucker for dogs,” Trip shook his head. “I’ve missed the little guy at work but I can’t chance another incident, especially as we’ll be putting the engine in this month and the nacelles after the struts are built. I’ll have Decker move the pen to your office.”

“You want to come to work with me, boy?” Jon knelt down and asked the beagle.

_Finally_ , Porthos thought, doing his usual jump, howl, downward dog, run around before sitting in front of his stupid beta human. He seemed to like the excitement and it always brought a smile to his face, followed by a scratch. After last night, Porthos wanted Jon Daddy to smile. He still smelt sad. He became sadder still, when Trip daddy started not coming home most nights of the week. Porthos went to work every day but he missed his alpha human. It seemed like a very long time between visits. When he arrived home, the beagle knew not to go near the bed. The longer Trip daddy stated away, the longer the sound and movement lasted, and more often.

Porthos took regular trips to see his cousins and romp in the backyard while his daddies caught up with the other adults. There’d been two new babies to sniff on return to Mars after the last New Year’s Party at the beach. This time Jon took him alone and adults talked about this New Year’s on Mars because of Hans and Henrik, who were much more fun now they were crawling. It seemed they were too young to travel to Earth for this year’s celebrations. Porthos couldn’t see why, if their carry cage was appropriate. When he out grew his puppy create, Trip and Jon Daddy brought him a new one so he’d be comfortable on their monthly weekends to Earth.

On those occasions, Jon disappeared for the night and came home smelling of beer and other men, while Trip took Porthos to visit Grandma and Grandpa, oh, and the beach. He loved the beach and Cousin Alison. She was always gentle with him and asking for one of his puppies or better still, a brother or sister. Obviously, she didn’t get this gender thing but Porthos wondered what it would be like to have a sibling. He often felt lonely.

This time, when Jon came home from his night with his water polo buddies, the adults discussed New Years. The party on Mars meant Porthos wouldn’t be left alone all night and that was the best trade off. Along with the kids, and playing, and romping around the back yard till all hours of the night, and the titbits everyone feed him, oh, and the fact he’d sleep in a tent with all the kids. Did he mention all seven kids, maybe more if Alison got her sibling? Hans and Hendrick might even be walking by then, so it might make ten.

“No baby,” Alison Tucker sat with Porthos in her lap. She’d accompanied her parents and grandparents and Grandpa Chuck to Mars for New Year’s 2149.

The beagle looked up, licked her hand and settled further into the space created by her crossed leg position. He felt sad for her, especially with all the other kids running around. The twins lay on a blanket beside Lee, not walking yet. Pieter said they were close and his sanity would be gone when the boys finally found their feet. Porthos had been warned off several times. Lee use to like him, but seemed very protective of the youngest children. It had something to do with them being born early and needing time to catch up. Like Alison, he wished his pack would increase, even if he had to be careful with the babies. It didn’t look like Trip and Jon Daddy would ever get another dog, let alone his own little human sibling. This whole gender thing didn’t seem to be an issue for humans, after all, Pieter and Lee had four children. Porthos wondered how and why his daddies didn’t make a baby or two, but Trip could be very stubborn and Jon still smelt sad and a little stressed.

“Hey,” Trip sat beside his four-year-old niece, “what you going over here by yourself. It’s nearly time to welcome in a new decade.”

“Porthos is tired and needed a rest,” the child announced carefully, stroking the little beagle from neck to tail. For his part, Porthos would have purred, it he was a cat.

“Yeah,” Trip looked at the child and could guess her thoughts. “You know, the lady who gave us Porthos has other puppies for adoption. Maybe I could talk with your mom and dad.”

“Really,” Alison brightened, before a sad look encompassed her face, “but it’s not my birthday and Christmas is gone.”

“That doesn’t mean a mommy and daddy can’t surprise you,” Trip’s tender heart broke. He’d never known a silent, lonely childhood. Jon had. Over the years little stories came out at odd times, and Tucker always wondered if his husband would have turned out different with brothers and sisters to play and fight with.

Jamie and Pam tried to tell Alison that she would never have a sibling. Trip’s brother and sister-in-law had beaten the odds in conceiving their daughter. They’d been seeing doctors for two years and coping with the diagnosis of primary infertility. Their only hope lay in adoption. However, in a world with universal care, housing and education, few children were born unwanted or unplanned. Those that were, always had family to take them in.

When Porthos accompanied Trip Daddy to Panama City in April 2050, he had a surprise awaiting him. Alison stood beside his old puppy create. Wiggling to get out of his, the beagle could smell another dog.

“Thanks,” Pam greeted her brother-in-law as he watched the child and two dogs romp around the back yard, “for suggesting this. I’ve never seen Alison happier.”

“It’s definite,” Trip asked, pointing to Pam’s belly.

“Afraid so,” she sighed. “We’ve exhausted every treatment on Earth. There is no way this womb is ever going to carry another child. We’ve started adoption proceedings but the wait list is, well, Alison will probably be in college before it happens.”

“Off world?” Trip enquired.

“Come on, you and Jon have done the same research,” Pam returned with a melancholy smile. “Apart from the fact my husband can’t take that much time off work to get somewhere that will give us a child, only the Vulcan’s and a species known as Denobulan’s have the technology to create and grow an embryo in a gestation chamber. As to adoption of another species, it would set a precedence I’m not sure the United Earth Government is ready for.”

“I’m sorry,” Trip mumbled.

“For us, or yourself?” Pam asked, not a hint of inflection in her tone. The expression on her face said she felt curious.

“Both,” Trip answered, his blue eyes locked on his sister by marriage. Touching the ring on his finger, the gold shone in the late afternoon sunlight. “I know we’ll find a way, out there somewhere. I just hope we can bring the process back for you and Jamie.”

“I’ll keep you to that,” Pam linked their arms. Turning to the glass, she watched Alison and the beagles happily playing as the sun set.

When Jon arrived to Panama City in the early hours of the morning, he crawled in beside Trip. Surprised to find his husband still awake, Archer asked, “what’s keeping you up?” The sombre expression shocked Archer, who’d given his spouse the perfect opening to initiate an encounter between them. The events of this evening came bubbling out.

“Do you think,” Trip found Jon’s warm arms around him, his heat radiating into his back from their spooned position, “we’ll ever get our kids, that we’ll ever get out there to find a way?”

“We might be well behind schedule with _Enterprise_ ,” Jon sighed, just as frustrated they’d been delayed by almost a year, “but the warp core is settled in the engine room and nacelles are on the fuselage. Your team is working to get everything connected. The decks are finished and the internal layout is progressing in the saucer section. We should be able to start the trials later this year.”

“If the Vulcan’s don’t come up with yet another issue,” Trip sounded depressed. “It’s the computer core this time. I don’t have any control over that, Jon.”

“Leave it to me. As Captain, I have the final say,” Archer soothed. “You’ve done enough the last two years, keeping them busy but still pushing ahead. I never though this would be easy, or that your prediction of three years would be close. Yet, we’re not as far behind as I though. At this rate, we should be on our mission early next year.”

“I’ve just turned thirty,” Trip moaned. He knew he shouldn’t. Jon had been generous with Tucker’s celebration and his family gave them an amazing, romantic weekend in the Nappa Valley.

“I though you didn’t do Tucker tradition,” Jon joked, only to feel his husband’s body shake as if keeping in tears. “What’s happened?”

“Pam told me they’d exhausted all their options,” Trip stated mournfully. “Lizzy was going to inform the family she’s getting married, but held off after that news. She’s only twenty-four.”

“You were younger than that,” Jon recalled, “when we got married. I’m not sure I get your point.”

Sighing, Trip responded, “I’m not sure I have one, except that things are changeding. Or maybe I’m just getting kinda clucky. Having Porthos is great, but when I held Hans…”

Rising up on one elbow, Archer turned on the light. Looking down at his spouse, he didn’t like the expression. “No,” he stated, “it’s more than that. Does this have something to do with Jamie and Pam?” Pausing, he could see the words hit and the resulting emotional explosion.

“They’ve put their name forward for adoption but don’t expect to get a child,” Trip explained sadly.

“You’ve always said,” Jon flicked off the illumination and resettled, “that we’d find our way out there, somewhere. We’re close, Trip, closer than we’ve ever been. We always said five years on _Enterprise_ before kids. We have time.”

“I’m just tired, Jon,” Trip sighed.

“I’ll call Max in the morning and get us a few days off,” Archer announced. “It’s time we took our yearly break on Moonlight. I’ll leave Uncle Bob to you.”

“Is that an order?” Trip asked, not happy to be away from his baby, now the main reactor had been installed on _Enterprise_. “I don’t want those Vulcan’s anywhere near engineering while I’m on vacation.”

“You have that guard lieutenant,” Jon smirked, his hand sliding lower. With a bit of work, he could have Trip’s attention redirected. “Hess is more than capable of giving anyone the run-around. Especially since she got promoted to full rank.”

“Why is it,” Trip shook his head, not entirely unhappy with the way things were progressing, “every time you go out with those water polo buddies, you come home and get all handsy?”

“You complaining?” Jon demanded, moving so he rolled Trip into his back and started removing his clothing.

“Nope,” Tucker smirked, “just wondering what’s taking you so long.”

A soft growl issued from Archer’s lips before they descended. Porthos sighed from his doggy bed. It wasn’t long before he knew he’d never be offered his usual spot behind Jon Daddy’s legs. The draw opened, the movement started and that familiar smell invaded his nostrils. Still, he’d heard the word ‘Moonlight’. Maybe this time they’d leave him with Alison and the puppy. That would be much more fun than being couped up on a yacht with his daddies more interested in each other than him.


	42. Forty-Two: New Horizons July 2050 – April 2151

“I got something to show you,” Trip stated, eating the eggs and toast Jon loaded on his plate.

Archer simply raised an eyebrow. Commander Tucker had been spending most week nights on board _Enterprise_ while the internal fit out neared completion. The engineering crew were laying the EPS conduits and Trip wanted to make sure they were done to his specifications before the internal bulkheads went in. While Jon missed him at night, he understood the necessity. It wouldn’t be long before his ship was ready to fly. A month, two at most.

“You got time today?” Trip asked when his husband got that far away expression. Commander Tucker deliberately avoided showing the Captain more than absolutely necessary on their weekly tours of _Enterprise_. He wanted some of the new technology and internal changes to be a surprise.

“I can make time,” Jon smiled, bringing his attention back to their kitchen. “Why is it, every time you come home, you’re like a human vacuum cleaner?”

“We kinda use up a lot of energy for the first few hours after I walk in the door and I need to preplace it,” Trip shrugged his shoulders but gave his long-suffering husband a lopsided grin that stated he could go in for some more of that action. “Then I don’t remember to eat half the time while I’m working. Too many little details need overseeing and everyone comes to me with the smallest problem. Not to mention the outside distractions that are still coming from all over. I’m still getting at least three comm’s a day for help. Hess is great at keeping me on track. I want her for my second when _Enterprise_ ships out.”

Sitting down with his own breakfast, after serving Trip a second helping, Jon shook his head. “I told you, you have free reign on the engineering personnel.”

“You’re not understanding me, I want Lt. Commander Hess, Chief’s Assistant,” Trip stated very carefully. “She’s worked just as hard for this as we have, all the way from Captain Jefferies engineering team back in ‘41. If that man can get kicked upstairs to Admiral, then Christina deserves a little promotion.”

“Anything else while you’ve caught me in a good mood?” Jon asked, his tone light and humorous.

“Take a look at Lt. Malcolm Reed for armoury officer. His credentials are good, even if his personality leaves a lot to be desired,” Trip offered, before pushing a clean plate away. While he still didn’t really want the First Officer’s job, didn’t have time for it, Commander Tucker knew his responsibilities, and staff, their moral and ensuring the Captain chose the right people was within his purview.

“Max gave me his file last year,” Jon confessed, “when I told him I didn’t have a anyone experienced enough. I’ve ear marked him, but his current commander won’t release him until next year at the earliest. I might have to start making waves. _Enterprise_ needs the best.”

Shrugging, Trip continued to eat by stealing a rash of bacon off Jon’s plate. His husband scowled and gave Tucker a warning crack over the knuckles with his fork. Once they’d finished cleaning the kitchen, Trip called Porthos and clipped the lead to his harness. Realising he’d be going with his humans; the dog did circles.

“Come on, Old Man,” Trip grinned, “we got a shuttle to catch.”

“Shuttle,” Jon looked stunned. “And since when did you start with the Old man again. I thought I’d manage to cure you of that habit.”

“Jonny, we might be in uniform, but we’re not on duty yet,” Trip’s grin widened into a full smile while he pinched his significant other on the butt to get him moving. Eyes twinkling, Jon knew he was in for a surprise by his husband’s expression and mood. It seemed Commander Tucker had kept something about _Enterprise_ concealed and today might be the big reveal.

An hour later, the expression increased tenfold. Standing on what would be his bridge, Jon looked around before taking in his chair. The chair, the big one reserved for the Captain, the one that appeared since the last internal inspection. Hands touching it reverently, he finally sat at Trip’s insistent glare. Archer should have expected the click. Even he had to admit, Commander Tucker captured the moment amazingly well. Everything was taking shape around him. The helm controls, the communications, science and tactical stations. They were still way behind schedule but Jon finally felt they might just get to the static trial by the end of the year. At this rate, it would be another two months before _Enterprise_ was complete. Twice that before she’d leave the gantry.

Still acting like a kid in a candy story, Trip grabbed his husband’s hand, almost pulling him off his feet. So far, Jon had seen the exterior as the worker pod made its way from the gantry shuttle port, the launch bay where they docked, engineering, sick bay and what seemed like several kilometres of half completed hallway. Although the weekly exterior visits with Commander Tucker continued, this was the first time his husband would allow him inside for an extended tour.

“Steady on,” Jon couldn’t help catch his spouse’s excitement. Growling the comment, a smirk covering his face spoiled the effect. He wanted to saver the moment, sit in his Captain’s chair for the first time, look out at the stars through the view port.

“I got a lot to show you,” Trip whined, “and very little time to do it.”

“We have all day,” Archer stated, opening a channel to his office Mars-side. He quickly informed the Ensign on duty that he wouldn’t be back from his inspection of _Enterprise_ today and to cancel any appointments or meeting and reschedule. Tucker, however, had been peppered with questions as they toured, which Jon secretly enjoyed. Firstly, watching his husband in action always thrilled him and secondly, the interruptions gave the captain more time to take in all the changes and subtle upgrades Trip managed to intigrate.

“Well, I don’t,” Trip muttered. Still his eyes shone with excitement. “Hess managed the roster for the day shift, but that doesn’t mean I won’t get distracted.”

“Today,” Jon’s tone turned into Captain Archer, “I want my First Officer at my side for this walk through.”

“Aye, Capt’n,” Trip stated. “In that case, I have a lot more to show you.”

When they got to the turbolift, Trip chose deck E. Once out of the lift, Commander Tucker easily navigated his way to the outer hallway thought the mess of half-finished corridors, rooms and wires extending in every direction.

“Initially,” Tucker stated, “the Captain’s quarters were located next to the deflector, in the front of the turbolift well. I have to say, for the most senior officer on board, your quarters location left a lot to be desired. It would have been small, noisy and a long way from the bridge. I’ve earmarked it for our Vulcan Science officer instead.”

“Trip,” Jon warned.

Sighing, the Commander ignored the tone and continued with his tour. “I changed the location for several reasons. Firstly, the docking port is down the hall. This,” Trip pointed out a small room off a larger one without furniture to suggest its purpose, “is the Captain’s private mess. It’s inside the main eating area to make it easier for the catering staff but also bringing any visiting dignitaries directly to the Captain’s table. And here, sandwiched in between, is your quarters for easy access and kind of making a zone no one else needs to travel, offering the Captain a little privacy.”

Jon had to agree, Trip had some very good points. The main corridor branched off to the alcove where they currently stood. As the automatic doors hadn’t been fitted, Archer could see the area earmarked for the captain’s exclusive use. Stepping into the mess, he looked around and liked the large picture window. It would make an impression, he hoped, on any new species they might encounter. At Trip’s urging, he went through to his quarters.

“They seem big,” Jon commented, not exactly sure what he looked at. Four grey walls with wires laying around the permitter, two windows and what appeared to be plumbing for two bathrooms.

“That’s because I’ve placed your First Officer in the quarters next door. The dividing wall’s not up yet, but will be here. Retractable of course,” Trip’s enthusiasm showed as his arms indicated where the partition would go.

Something stirred in the back of Archer’s mind. They’d talked, well Trip had waxed poetically, about designing quarters that could divided into a bedroom and living room while on _Al Biruni_ , but able to be returned to a more usual layout when they’d finished with them. It seemed, leading the engineering team meant he had _carta blanch_ on internal changes.

The Commander continued without taking a breath, “I’ve made the bathroom in my cabin smaller to allow for the door. Over there,” Trip pointed to the hall bulkhead, “will be a computer terminal for you on one side of the partition and me on the other. That way we can get some work done without interfering with each other. The main bathroom has a shower big enough for two and is located in the space between your dining room and the bed head. It’s allowed my team to get a private head for the Captain’s mess. Before you complain, that was Hess’s idea. She also suggested we have the shower removed from my bathroom but it can easily be replaced by the space taken up by the passageway between cabins.”

“Double bed?” Jon asked hopefully.

“Yep,” Trip grinned, “and my bunk will be non-standard so we can use it as a couch to watch the screen at my desk, also oversized. What,” Trip asked sardonically at his husband’s expression, “an engineer likes to see plans and a small screen just doesn’t cut it. We also left room inside the entry for a closet to house Porthos’s equipment as well as your clothing to take up minimal space in your quarters. I think it would be best if I stashed my uniforms in my cabin. Not that I intend hiding our marriage or anything, but I think it’s best we continue to keep our personal relationship inside these walls.”

“How long before the furniture’s installed?” Jon asked. He really wanted to see the rooms in their finished state.

“About two to three weeks,” Trip offered. “I’ll make sure we do an internal inspection.”

“I remember you talking about this on _Al Biruni_ ,” Jon couldn’t keep the pleased expression off his face. His tone turned mocking as he teased, “when you get mad at me and offer to go to your own quarter’s in future, you won’t have to do the walk of shame back to bed at some unreasonable hour of the morning.”

“There is that,” Trip managed a smirk. “Not that it happened that often. Admiral Forest still teases me about that occasionally. I can’t believe you told him I’d sneak back when I got cold.”

“And I paid the price,” Jon’s eyes twinkled with supressed mirth, “by getting your icy feet on my calf’s.”

“Served you right,” Trip pretended to be offered. Tucker’s expression turned serious, “Jon, I haven’t made these changes lightly, and there not on the official _Enterprise_ schematics.”

“I gathered that,” Archer shook his head. “I think the idea of the Captain’s quarters and mess combined as a private unit is ingenious, Trip. In fact, it should be incorporated on all newly built vessels. As for the rest, let’s keep it between us and make sure the changes are made before we leave _Enterprise_.”

“You won’t get any argument out of me,” Trip grinned. “Hey, Porthos, what do you think of you knew home.”

The little dog seemed underwhelmed. Sighing, he placed his head on his paws and looked up with sad brown eyes. This place seemed like a prison, worse than the cage now in Jon Daddy’s office. Just why his humans were so excited, he couldn’t tell.

Captain’s log, Monday 4th January 2151.

Today I officially took up residence in my quarters aboard _Enterprise_ , along with my Frist Officer. The rest of the engineering crew are settling in over the day. Tomorrow we start the static warp tests. I have finally secured Lt. Malcolm Reed as my Armory Officer, much to his current supervisors’ displeasure. In this appointment, the Vulcan’s agreed and pressed the issue. I have to wonder what we will find out there, if a logical species believes we require not only an armoury, but the best armoury officer Starfleet can provide. Lt. Reed will report for duty next month.

Sub-Commander T’Pol had declined permanent assignment as the Science Officer until the in system testing phase. I believe this to be a very logical option as most of the analysis will be mechanical for the next few months. Commander Tucker assured me, the Science station will not be needed until our mission commences.

Ensign Travis Mayweather, our pilot, is not available until graduation from Starfleet Academy that the start of March. As such, it will give the Captain a chance to man the helm and learn how the ship manoeuvres. I’m not sure it is an opportunity that will come around often, once we have commenced out voyage, so this old pilot is taking what he can get.

Ensign Hoshi Soto is currently teaching language in Brazil. I have requested her as my communication officer, however, her survival training is lacking and she has declined the post. If push comes to shove, I’ll make a personal entirety. That leaves only the Chief Medical Officer to round out my senior crew, but we won’t need a doctor until _Enterprise_ is about to get underway, so the posting can wait. In the meantime, Commander Wagner is making time to treat any causalities. Thankfully, there haven’t been many. There are several other important positions currently being considered. The Chef being the most important, after all, a crew lives on its stomach. With the new protein re-sequencer, the individual must be able and willing to use the machine when we are unable to restock fresh produce. We are trailing someone this week. I’m sure the engineering compliment will put him through his paces and offer their recommendation.

Commander Tucker’s engineering team of forty-five have been chosen from among the teams constructing _Enterprise_ over the last three years. He assures me there are experts from every division within that number, able to rebuild the ship in space if required. Between the static analysis phase and impulse propulsion testing, both Commander Tucker and myself have to renew our survival training. I’m hoping to get Ensign Sato to join us. We are going to the Andes this time, challenging our lungs at high altitude. I don’t see this as an issue, after living on Mars for many years. However, I’ve only been able to run in the valleys without a lite EV suit in the last three months. Commander Tucker and I have been going our own form of training in preparation for _Enterprise’s_ Official launch.

End log.

“Well?” Jon looked at the meal before him, rather unhappily. His first night on _Enterprise_ , Captain Archer hoped for a little romance and celebration given they were eating alone in the Captain’s mess. Trip trooped in at exactly 1900, in his uniform still covered in grease and grime. When Jon offered wine, he shook his head, stating he needed to return to engineering for a couple of hours so they could start the static testing tomorrow. Then, one of kitchen staff, acting as the Captain’s steward entered and placed a plate before the senior officers. “Do you think Chef’s trying to impress us, or we need to start looking for a replacement.”

“That depends,” Trip hesitated only a moment before attacking the food. Around a mouthful of food, he managed, “not too bad, what is it?”

“Deconstructed lasagne,” Jon stated, still playing with the piles of pasta, meat and white sauce, “I think.”

“You been speaking with Mama, getting her opinion,” Trip’s eyebrow rose in accusation as his fork pointed to the mass of yellow, white and red now combined in the middle of his dish. “She’s all into deconstructed food at the moment. Apparently, it’s all the rage in Miami. After ten years together, you know I’m a meat and veg kind of guy, even if I can extend my palate on occasion.”

“Really,” Jon continued watching his spouse dispose of the meal at an amazing rate. “You’re vacuuming again.”

“Can’t help it,” Trip looked up, mouth half full, “I’m hungry. Although, next time, tell chef to construct it in layers and I’ll have twice as much, especially when I missed lunch.” Pointing to Jon’s plate, Tucker asked, “you going to eat that?”

Sighing, Jon picked up his utensils unenthusiastically after a large gulp of wine. It took a minute of two for Tucker to understand. “Hell, Jon, why didn’t you say you wanted me dressed in civilian clothing?”

“I shouldn’t have too, Trip,” Jon sighed. “We’ve been working toward this from the first moment we met. Now _Enterprise_ is finally ready, and you’ve ensured we have privacy with the Captain’s zone, as the crew are calling it, I thought we’d, well, enjoy our first night aboard.”

“Jon, I been sleeping on a cot in the alcove they call my office on and off for the last six months,” Trip shrugged, “so I could get our dream launched.”

“So, you haven’t used your quarters,” Archer asked, leaning forward. A pang hit him, in the region of his heart. He understood his husband’s reluctance. Trip wanted to make their first night aboard together special.

“No,” Trip suddenly realised the intention behind the question and a smirk slowly covered his lips. “Never even crossed my mind, Jonny. I ain’t trying out that bed without you, Old Man.”

Letting out the breath Jon didn’t realise he held, a contented but lustful expression encompassed his features. Hazel eyes twinkling, the Captain ordered, “then, I suggest we take this party back to my quarters, Commander, after you’ve finished hoovering up what’s left on your plate. Bring the bottle of wine. You can shower and get into something more comfortable while I tell chef we’ll take desert to go. Oh, and those last minuet checks can await until tomorrow.”

“Aye, Sir,” Trip glared, his mind and heart competing for dominance. While he wanted to spend this first night with Jon, lavishing attention on his husband as a reward for finally achieving the first part of their life’s goal, the professional side wanted everything perfect for tomorrow. “I’ll call Lt. Commander Hess, and have her stand everyone down. I’m sure the crew will thank you.”

“Trip,” Jon said, as the other man went to stand, “I’m glad Christina’s promotion came through. For a while, I didn’t think Admiral Nesbit would allow it.”

“She only got the official notification today,” Tucker grinned, before pushing the little white button and happily calling his assistant. His crew ecstatic at the night off, Trip knew there would be a few sore heads in the morning. “Come on, Jon. Now I got some free time, I want to get cleaned up.”

“Go ahead,” Archer shook his head, reaching for the wine glass. “I’ll eat and then join you in ten.”

“I’m counting on it,” Trip lent down and kissed his spouse.

True to his word, Jon walked into his cabin for the first time ten minutes later. He’d seen it on that surprise inspection Commander Tucker organised months ago, but without furniture. They’d visited again a few weeks back, when the bulkheads and major fixtures had been added. As his due, the Captain’s steward unpacked the meagre belonging he’d been allowed. Porthos would arrive tomorrow, spending his last day on Mars with Vicky and her family. Hans and Hendrik were walking and the poor beagle did his best to stay as far away from the terror twins as possible. They pulled his ears and tail unmercifully. In truth, Jon desperately wanted this night with Trip.

By the entry door to his cabin, the ancient white board took pride of place. The one Tucker insisted they purchase after their first real misunderstanding so many years ago. It demonstrated it’s age as Jon’s fingers lovingly grazed it. No doubt, it appeared thanks to Trip. All the family’s birthdays, including the Wagner-Shao’s, were written in his hand, just so Jon wouldn’t forget. They’d agreed to comm Earth or Mars on those dates, if possible. The rectangular board proved life was changing.

_Commander Tucker must have been incredibly busy today_ , the Captain shook his head. _Obviously, my husband has made a few additional changes to our quarters since our luggage came onboard._

A series of hooks, slightly to the left of the door, held Porthos’s lead, harness and portable water container. Jon wondered what other improvements he’d find. Searching for yet another hook and coming up empty, Archer headed for the bathroom. It seemed as likely a place as any, especially given Trip’s insistence they keep their marriage within the confines of their quarters. After talking about the issue with Admiral Forest, at some length, and questioning Commander Tucker’s motives, Captain Archer understood, even if the decision hurt Jonathan.

Trip felt they need to separate their personal and professional lives, which they’d always done when serving together and Jon agreed. While they wouldn’t hide their marriage, nor would they openly display their relationship. Their interactions, while at work and even on missions together, proved that point. It took an extraordinary event for a crew member to uncover the bond, unless they already knew, as in Hess’s case.

Max Forest pointed out this fact had to go further on _Enterprise_. Trip was not only his Chief Engineer, but Jon’s First Officer and that made all the difference. Something Tucker hadn’t been able to articulate. Trip wanted, needed the respect of the crew. Although few would suggest he gained his position because of his relationship with the Captain, Tucker didn’t want to open that can of worms. He knew the crew would eventually work it out, but hoped by the time they did, his reputation would be solidly earnt.

_Still doesn’t explain were Trip’s hidden his chain_ , Jon sighed. _Unless he’s planning to wear it all the time, even in our quarters._

Exiting the bathroom, his husband interrupted Archer’s thoughts. A smile slowly infused his face, noticing the gold band on Trip’s finger. As though Tucker read Jon’s mind, he stated, “hooks in the bathroom. I figured, if we get called to an emergency in the middle of the night, it would be the best place. I kind of feel naked without the chain around my neck, now.”

“It’s been a few years since that acident,” Jon agreed, holding the bottle. Pouring a second glass when Trip held out his hand, they touched the rims. “To exploring strange new worlds.”

“To seeking out new life,” Trip added, “and new civilizations.”

“To boldly go,” Jon added the last of the famous quote, “where no man has gone before.”

“Now it’s time for you to go were no other man’s gone before, Jonny, or ever will,” Trip took both glasses and place them on the nearest flat surface. “Make love to me, Old Man.”

Jonathan Archer didn’t been to be told twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Be Continued in Enterprise: First Contact coming to a screen near you very soon.


End file.
